No pressure... Yeah, right. 
I am a Christian. Everyone knows that. And that's the problem.
Okay, let me backtrack here. It is not a problem; it is a responsibility. A responsibility that sometimes (okay, make that most of the time - no, all the time) feels like too much for me to carry. 
Why? Because I feel this pressure to be on all the time. 
To say the appropriate thing, to do the appropriate thing, to reflect Jesus in every and all ways. 
And, it is a lot. 
Sometimes it's like, "Lord, I am just a young adult going through life and the many suck-y changes that have to do with adulthood."
But I try to remember (with a lot of help from the Holy Spirit - seriously, like a lot of it) that it is my heart, rather than my actions, that endear me to the Lord.
Abraham and David were flawed humans who made mistakes. What made them beloveds of the Lord was that they were flawed humans who loved the Lord.
Loves the Lord trumps made mistakes every day, any day.
And I’m cool with that. For the more I love the Lord, the less easy it becomes to make mistakes, and the more effortless it becomes to be on.  

Sometimes (actually, make that every time) we think we know.
But every day, every minute, every new second that we cannot foresee are perpetual reminders that we don’t.
Yet, insanely, we keep on doing the same thing – trusting in ourselves and our “ability to plan and predict.”
How’s that working out for us so far?
For me, I can honestly say it sucks. As from right now, I am going to make a concerted effort to put my situations in God’s hands and let Him lead.

Phew. That’s what I said yesterday. God help me…these words need to become actions. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.
I know I'm cute. Okay, that's a pretty conceited way to start, but it's in the website name, so I am not sure what else you were expecting.
(You can breathe out now; it's just a joke).
But seriously, I know I am beautiful. Not because I know how to perform the art of making-up. Not because I know how to "combine." Just for the simple reason that God created me. And we all know how good He is at what He does.
Because of how great Pops' work is, I understand the compulsion to appreciate it. I mean, I have found myself gaping quite unattractively at an artfully curved cloud.
But where I flipping draw the line is when males I don't know call me "baby." Especially creepy men old enough to be my uncle or dad.
Ew. Seriously. Ew.
Only one Person can rightfully call me baby! Because, well, I am.
And I will gladly be His. Because, well, He is not creepy. Neither is He an ordinary man.
He is pretty cool, actually. And famous, too. His name is Jesus. You should read up on Him sometime in John 3:16.
You just might like him. (Jk. You will definitely like Him).

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You know, I think the title is pretty self-explanatory so I won't give you an overanalysis. 
It took me a while to get here, where I can proudly write it. 
This is not to say that here is there, which is the pinnacle.  
But this is to encourage you (and me) to fight everyday till your here is there - where God has in store for you. 
So what are we fighting? Ourselves. Our need to be first and best. 

Bottomline: Fight to be last so that your here can get there. 
And, another GAMT is born - a standing ovation to the King of Kings ;)

G.A.M.T : Great and Mighty Truth
In Jeremiah 33:3, the Lord says to call unto Him and He will show us Great and Mighty Truths.
Since I heard this verse used in a sermon one or two years ago, it has become a label I use for the “hmmm-worthy" statements I receive from the Lord.
(You know when you hear a quote or a lyric and you (or your African parent) go “hmmm..." Yeah, that's what I mean)
So off to the GAMT!
GAMT#1: We are all hypocrites claiming not to be - how hypocritical of us. 
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Coolio.

 I don't like cuss words. I think they are unnecessary and dramatic. Cuss words offend my delicate sensibilities. That's just a joke, but seriously - more often than not, whenever I hear a cuss word in person, I flinch.  And my opinion of the utterer lessens. 
Basically, I didn't really understand why people cussed. Not until today. Until this very moment. 
In this very hour of my life, all I feel like doing is screaming a bunch of expletives into the air. That is how awful today has been. 
I am not a negative person. At least, I like to think I am not. And I don't like making a huge fuss about anything. My mantra in life is: let it go; it is not that serious. 
Well, a bucketful (Pidgin English speakers read: garawa-ful) of poop has been piled upon me today and to be honest, I feel like vomiting.
In this very minute of my life, I have about had it and I don't think I can take anymore. 
Yet, as physically satisfying as it would be to yell every single four letter word I know into the air as veins pop out of my neck, it would kill my spiritual self.
Not literally...I don't think. 
And, since I told Jesus I am His forever, I don't answer to just myself anymore. 
My body wants to scream in protest to the pain that it is feeling inside and my spirit wants to make sure that I don't offend any delicate sensibilities. (Another joke...hope you got it this time ;)).
In this very second of my life, all I can do, as I sit at my desk surrounded by people with delicate sensibilities (Okay, please tell me you got it this time.), is to silently chant  “It went through Jesus before it came to me." 
And I have a sneaky suspicion that how I feel now, no amount of cuss words in the world could ever bring me. 
​And that's cool with me. 
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