In All Things

Ephesians 4:6

Father of All. Above All. Through All.

________________________________________________

When life happens and changes for you, it's not solely just for you. You should tell it, share it and ultimately encourage someone else. Good things happen to good people (I'm that good people) and every part of that good needs to be shared.

First,  I have to say that I am grateful for my place of employment. Grateful and thankful. You know you gotta give thanks before you blast off. At least that's the made up rule "we" follow and change with each situation, so follow the bouncing ball and try not to catch a case of a little whiplash.

"Let's get ready to rumble!"

"On your mark, get set, go!"

"Gentlemen, start your engines!"

"You dropped a bomb on me!"

"Action!"

I know I hear each of those statements in unison when I enter the building where I work. An unorganized insane asylum where everyone knows how to solve the problem. Along with the problem solving  everyone should add that everyone is the problem. Like, for real, what?

Imagine walking on a live minefield with hot cherry bombs dropping from the ceiling. They land close enough to shock your shell, but not close enough to deter you from your assigned mission. The most you can do is suck your teeth or scrunch your face, and keep on stepping towards the next quiet kaboom.

Exaggerated chaos. Uh, what is exaggerated chaos? Chaos in itself is a stand alone noun that doesn't need a sentence to gain understanding. Twenty-five assignments have to be completed each minute at the same time without delay. Oh, did I mention grenades? I can't forget about the grenades. Pull your pin and get it in! What?

I work in the back of the building and it takes 200+ steps to get from the front to my designated work area. While walking to the back of the building I might have to stop, drop and roll, dip, slip, and dodge a bullet, defend myself with a shield and swing a sword. Exaggerated chaos indeed!

To think that someone traveled that hideous obstacle course to find me - just me, is amazing! Before the person reached me, I was aggravated, bothered and annoyed. They came because they needed me, but in actuality, I needed them. 

They received bad news and the grenades, cherry bombs and minefield wouldn't stop them from getting to me. Would you believe they asked me to pray for them? Me? Pray for you? Ain't nothing but God!

God sent her to me for me. I prayed and spoke what God placed in my heart for her. God sent her to me when I was just about done. What is wrong with people? I was so sick of all of it! And then I wasn't. Why? Because He is in all things.

He was all in her thing and gave her what she needed. He was all in my thing and gave me what I needed. In all of that exaggerated chaos we needed to hit the brakes and pray. For those few moments I didn't hear or see confusion. I saw God's love for me.

The next day I saw her and asked how she felt. She said she was okay and added she appreciated me. Man, listen...I navigated my way through the minefield knowing that I know, that I know, that I know He is in all things.

You're never alone. When you're frustrated and disengaged He's there. In your happiness or feeling of rejection, He's there. He's in the cherry bombs that can't destroy  you.

"Church Folk" have a million little sayings that supposedly will save the day. You don't realize how true the sayings are until you have to apply them to your life. 

Am I on the straight and narrow? Probably not. I started a fight with a "thing" that I know I won't win, yet I keep it around just because. That's but an entirely different post, but I digress.

Take this from a pretty brown girl who loves you. Don't wait until you need Him to need Him. He's Already there anyway. Amen?

I luv you.

Consistent Obedience

1 Peter 1:14 - as obedient children, not conforming yourselves to the former lusts, as in your ignorance.

The start of a new year brings an eagerness to commit to change within one's life. The excitement of being granted another fresh start, another chance, to correct past mistakes is something many of us look forward to. We begin thinking of the many changes we'll make in November, and sometimes earlier, but can't press the start button until January 1st. We jot down resolutions that may, or may not, make it past the 2-week trial period. And let's not forget about the pledge to lose weight by joining The Forgotten Treadmills of America Club. You know good and 2025 doggone well you ain't going to the gym...

Still, we persevere with brilliant blueprints designed to make us the best of the best that society has to offer. No faults or imperfections.  The, "That" could never be me," mentality has continued to fool many of us. "That" is you, it's just "That" in a different form.

Some of us perfect people choose one positive word to sum up our new efforts. Each year my one word is obedience. Each year I ask myself why do I always choose the word obedience. Well, it's been said that you have to repeat the same error over and over until you get it right. Geesh, what in the world do I keep messing up? And every year? Dang, Wanda.

I promise you each day I receive multiple blessings. I also promise you I'm proof that you can get some good stuff even when you don't deserve good stuff. I did a deep dive into the word obedience as it pertains to  me and realized that the things I attached the word obedience to didn't equate to 365 days. It didn't add up to 6 months straight or, at times 2 days. Dang, Wanda!

The issue with my word, or better yet, me, is what I choose to be obedient to. Realizing that I'm not consistent kinda messed me up a bit. Gotta be truthful with who you are and who you present to the world. Going outside each day and striving to come home to an Oscar award ceremony that no one attends is absolute stupidity. A seven-day cruise to a fool's paradise where everything that you paid for is free? What? I'm not trying to figure that out.

Consistent  and obedience are my 2 words for 2025. I thank God for allowing me to be aware and feel in the moment experiences. I finally understand that I can't share what is especially for me. That doesn't mean you're selfish or don't have concern for others. That does mean that what's for you is for you, and you better love it as such. You also can't tell everything nor can you include folks who don't have the same mindset. Differences make the world go around and opposites attract. Sometimes the differences and opposites are filled with love. And that's a good thing. 

2025 is the year I plan to do everything right! And here we go...I done messed up already! Dang Wanda...

Soooooooooooooo, I'm obedient in what I'm supposed to do. You know, daily life stuff - requirements. I'm not obedient in things outside of the norm. At times what I want and how I feel cause my mind to focus on thoughts that I shouldn't, but I want to and I like it, so I do. Wants added with feelings  may cause you to become a manipulated puppet to emotions. They control you and your obedience is null and void. (not conforming yourselves to the former) Until you gain control of you, go sit down in a truck stop bathroom and hang a sign around your neck. Out.Of.Order.

Being consistently obedient to what you want is a battle with a beast!  If it isn't a need, but more so a desire - Out.Of.Order.

If you could see my thoughts, you'd see me trying to walk across Niagara Falls on a tightrope, falling off and landing on the Titanic as it's sinking, and then trying to outswim Jaws while looking for a helicopter that has dropped a safety ladder. Oh, the horror.

This life requires you to be obedient in all things. What you feed your body, your mind and your soul matters. But yah'll know how "we" get down. A lil' brown liquor, a box of Newport 100s and fried chittlins' never hurt nobody until it hurts you. Consistently greasy and obediently out of breath. Man listen... 

Sequential small things will keep you on the right track. Sometimes we need to simply turn the TV off, tune out the reckless noise and sit in silence. I received a reality check one night while watching an ooooooooweeeee program. I won't mention the name of the show that slapped me in my face. Someone on the screen looked directly me and said, 

"Girl, this is why you're struggling with consistent obedience." 

"But..."

"Turn it off." 

I ain't had no business watching the show but, yeah, uh, never mind.

The ways that I attempt to reason with my obedience is laughable. The situation isn't the same, maybe similar, but not exactly the same. The people, places and things are different, so as long as I don't do that I'm okay doing this. Nope! Gotta be all in or gotta be all in. And that's the way it's gotta be.

What I will say I know for sure is that when God tells you no, tell Him thank you. Life is beautiful. Don't jack yours up continuing to fight an opponent that, 

1. Doesn't want to be in the ring with you in the first place. 

2. Will unplug your life support and then plug it back in just to see you struggle again. 

We can be consistently obedient to situations that cause us harm, an activity, habit or a person. Loyalty  to a distraught individual is the worst. You ain't gotta rely on a fool, that absolutely knows they're a fool, and enjoys the foolish attention they receive to slow down your progress. 

Did you make a choice to remain in agreement with a person, place or thing that picks stupidity daily as their road map? Is that where your consistent obedience lies? If you paused before answering, ask yourself what's really going on with you. 

 Listen, we gotta pray that Godzilla doesn't get to the helicopter before me because that will be tragic. Everybody gets a turn, so if I get got, you're on deck next. Come on, my friend; consistent obedience or consequences and repercussions? We gotta get through this life together. Will you work with me?

I luv you. 

In the Socket

 

I've been told that I'm persistent, and I agree with that. I've been told that I'm determined, and I also agree with that. Add proactive and independent to the list, too. Independence was my green light to do things without hesitation, and my proactive nature caused me to halt many of the nonsense I started before it derailed, burst into flames, and died. I'm not sure if my persistence or determination caused me to do some of the ridiculous things I did when I was young, though. I'll chalk it up to being an innocent child and give myself a pass.

Daily I heard, "don't touch that," which came from my parents. Most times I complied because my daddy's belt was the king of discipline. The one thing that held power over me and always trumped my parents and the belt, was an electrical outlet. Wall sockets always smiled at me in our 22nd Street apartment and I knew I heard them call my name. 

"Come here, Niecy." 

"Niecy, I'm bored. Come talk to me."

"Wanda Denise Hudson! Little girl, you know you want to be my friend."

Hearing my full name was a call to action. It wanted to play with me. A friendly game of tag, you're it, was all the socket required.

I don't remember how I knew that I wasn't supposed to stick anything in the socket, I just knew not to do it. I have always been talkative and friendly, and even though the sockets were off limit,  they would not be denied the opportunity of getting to know me.

How did I know my mother's sewing scissors would fit perfectly in the socket? I'll call it natural knowledge. Or better yet, common sense. The kind of common sense to know it was wrong but not common enough to know not to do it. That's confusing...

I can see myself as I type this. I was on my knees in me and my brother's room, directly in front of the outlet. Yah'll, I tell no lies when I say that thing smiled at me! I inched closer, leaned forward and slowly moved my left hand, which held the scissors, closer to it's mouth. Why did I move so slow? Was it because I knew something would or would not happen? The real question is why didn't I stop? Because the socket wanted to be my friend, that's why!

Well, well, well...the tip of the scissors walked into the socket's house, and the lyrics from DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince' song played for me before they knew it would be a hit for them.

Boom, shake shake shake the room, boom, shake shake shake the room, boom, shake shake shake the room, tick, tick, tick, tick, boom!

The socket thrust me back forcefully while saying, "Uh, uh, little girl, we will have none of that breaking and entering up in here!"

"What? I thought you wanted to be my friend! I don't get it..."

I think I was airborne for a good 3 seconds and then I hit the floor hard, on my back. I don't know how long I was unconscious for. I'm cracking up now as I'm writing this!

I opened my eyes to see my mother standing over me.

"Niecy..."

When I was older and could understand, my mother told me the lights flickered, went black, BOOM, and then came back on. She knew I'd done something. I was always doing something. She walked up the stairs and came into the room to see me laying on my back. My arms and legs were spread wide in preparation for making a snow angel. I heard a low gasp when she saw the scissors. They lay a few inches from my left hand with the tip emitting a low singed ember.

We can read that I didn't die, nor was I physically hurt. My feelings were shook up due to the socket violating our friendship. My mother helped me up off the floor and told me not to touch her scissors again. Shock and gratitude probably stopped her from saying anything else. Thankfully, my father wasn't home. He would've torn my tail all the way up! I'll tell yah'll about my crayon incident one day. Oooooooooweeeeeee...

The saying, in the pocket, is what we use when that thing fits. In baseball, the ball is thrown and secure in the glove, in the pocket. When that happens the person on deck probably struck out. Musicians play in the pocket and we hear a beat like no other. Listen to James Brown for complete understanding. When we're in sync and everything lines up for us, our world is in the pocket. Perfection.

During an eighth-grade group discussion regarding various relationships, the teacher said men and women fit together like a plug in a socket. I think on that at times and wonder, will they continue to fit when the socket has a boom reaction?

Life is full of socket experiences. We identify them with the simple phrase of, "What happened?"

One minute, everything is rolling along smoothly. Your job. Your finances. Your relationship. And then, BOOM. The shock of your life happens and knocks you out! One sucker punch to the gut that takes your next few breaths. It shows no mercy and leaves you smoking with no explanation required.

What causes us to have an, in the socket, experience? Some call it temptation. When I hear the word temptation I think of illicit behavior. Dirty things that you bet not tell nobody. A feel good dirty that's not so good for you. A dirty that you don't want to get clean from. Did the socket tempt me or did I tempt myself? I was a child, so I'll go with curious. Dang...curiosity killed the cat. I don't want to die as a result of  being curious or illicit behavior. Then again, some things aren't temptation or curiosity. They're just there.

Examine yourself. Are you aiming for sockets and are full aware and know of the shock that's waiting just for you after the initial thrill? The adrenaline rush? Will you continue to aim and hope that you recover from the delicate ticks? Being a little shook up never hurt nobody, right? Just ask a boxer. They take some heavy hitter jabs and get a break when the bell rings. Eventually the bout is over - do they suffer any consequences after 10 rounds of boom?

The general consensus is that when we know better, we do better. Some of us know better and do different, which doesn't necessarily mean better, just different. Same MO, same game plan, but you recruited "better" players. When it doesn't work the boom of the socket, or the, "What happened", is always your fault that you aren't comfortable taking responsibility for, so off to the next socket you go.

100% honesty for me; I'm still aiming. Why? Curiosity, not temptation. Insert your favorite quotes here-

• "Nothing beats a failure but a try."
• "An excuse is a reason for nothing."
• "If at once you don't succeed, try again."
• "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
• "Go ahead and do it, Wanda. Just do it." - I made that one up.

Be honest with yourself and reality check your connections. What are you plugged in to or attempting to receive a surge from? Is it welcoming? Were you invited? Do you fit in the socket comfortably, or is there a BOOM waiting patiently for you?

I luv you.

Defensive Line

The way we think about current experiences or remember past situations, will at times, bring a smile to our face. This BLOG came about due to a simple picture. Nothing grand or spectacular to shout about, just a picture of a golden yellow kitten.

I was at work and had the pleasure (yes, work can be pleasurable) of viewing a magazine with a kitten on the cover. The kitten transported my mind back to an afternoon in 1970. My mother cleaned house for a white family, and since I only attended school for half-days, I went with her. I won't add that in the 80's my mother told me that their house was nasty. It wasn't nasty because they were white, it was nasty because they were nasty. Oh, I wasn't going to add that part...oops.

My family lived on 22nd Street in Niagara Falls and I shared a room with my brother. A 4 year old girl who longed for a life of luxury - yeah, right, going to a house where another little girl had her own room fit for a princess was life! I can't remember the family or the girl's name, but her room was fancy to me. She had a pink bedroom and her bed had a pink comforter with pillows that were covered in lace. The room also had a rocking chair, dolls and more toys than I had ever seen. We weren't po', but dang, she had stuff.

She also had kittens. I usually exaggerate the story by saying there were at least 450 kittens. This will forever be visible, so I'll tell the truth and say there were 3 kittens. Still, when I tell it live, it may be 4 to 50'leven kittens. 

What child wouldn't want to play with a pet? My daddy didn't buy our first daschund, Schultz, until I was 5, so those kittens were going to get all the love my 4 year old heart had to give.

How was I supposed to know the kittens didn't want love? Nobody told me that you shouldn't corner a kitten, cat or any animal. Man, I got jacked up!

The kittens crawled under the little girl's bed to get away from me and I wasn't having any of their escape tactics. I lay flat on my stomach and slid forward to pull them out. My sliding forward terrified them, causing them to move backwards. When their backsides hit the wall they had no where to go. Attack!

Those kittens tore me up! Kitten claws and teeth bit my face, hands and neck. I didn't think to slide backwards but I did think to scream. Have you ever paid attention to how loud a child is? If you have a high tolerance for noise, listen to any random child's voice. It's annoying and especially loud when you're not the parent of the child.

The kittens tore me up for 30 minutes (not really, it was only a few seconds, but I digress) before I felt the little girl's mother grab my feet and slide me from under the bed. Oooooooooweeeeeee, traumatic...

Memories are always a beautiful thing when you learn something about yourself and realize, hey, maybe you're not so bad after all. Defensive line.

The kittens had a defensive line. Everyone has a defensive line. I have a defensive line. The question is, is there a right and/or a wrong way to protect your line?

Sports teams have a defensive squad and their job is to stop the invasion by all means necessary. You will not score on my watch. 

Is that how you view your life? Are you always on the defense? Is life always coming for you? Who attempted to or has crossed your line? By what means did you deem, all means necessary,  to stop them?

Sometimes its "us" or "you", and the choices "we" make that cause the issue. Sometimes people like to "see" what will happen when the bear is poked. If your reaction is the same as the kittens, the culprit always views you as the problem. If you do nothing, you're weak or soft. Still, you and we have a right to protect our boundaries. Don't cross the line and "make" or "force" a Hulk like experience - "Don't make me angry. You won't like me when I'm angry."

I didn't get mad at the kittens for violating my face. I cried and whined while the white lady consoled me. My mother was just about tired of my loud mouth and most likely couldn't wait for my daddy to pick us up.

"I told you to leave them alone!"

Now I realized that I embarrassed her, but at the time, I was 4, tore up, and was not able to understand. Up in the white man's house cuttin' up a fool. One time I flipped the rocking chair over trying to make it take off like a swing on the playground. Cuttin' up a whole fool...😂

Adults tend to get mad at the person who they crossed the line with. Believing that they are never wrong doesn't help either. Ask yourself are you "that" person, or are you "that" person?

Two things that I've learned from this memory are, 1. I do like kittens and cats, I just don't want one. The other is you have the right to protect yourself. Not saying you should blast everyone, just saying protect your defensive line. 

If you've bulldozed your way into someone's space and happen to be the recipient of grown up kitten claws, don't get mad and don't get even. Get some get right up in you and keep on living. If you've been bulldozed, forgive and keep on living. Either way the common denominator is to keep on living.

I luv you.

My forever wittle babies, Schultz, Fritz and Frank❤

They're Just People

 

I think about my father often, yet lately he's been on heavy rotation. Gentle memories slip and slide through my mind and leave a big smile on my face, or cause me to laugh and feel good afterwards. Last week I thought about him and wanted to cry.  I heard his voice asking me, "What are you crying for?", and then I started laughing. Listen, grief, sorrow, joy and happiness need to have a meeting because I can't keep up.

 My father would say things that I may not have completely understood when he said it, but as I grew older, the lyrics, we'll understand it better by and by, oooooooooweeeeeee, yes sir - I understand.

 "Ya daddy ain't always gone be here."

"Where are you going?"

He didn't answer me. He just smiled and let out a little chuckle. I understand that now. Boy do I understand that.

When I started my foray into stand up comedy, I told my father how I worked myself up and made myself nervous. What? Oh no! Bobby James Hudson wasn't having or hearing any of that! His baby girl nervous? Please...

 "Baby girl they're just people. They can't do nothing to you. They're just people."

They're just people. I get it. Regardless of a person's title or position - they're just people. God is no respecter of persons. We.Are.All.Going.To.Die We are all just people.

People are the most ridiculous creatures on the earth. We start to move up the chain and begin treating each other recklessly. Coming out of our mouth any old kind of way. Negro, and that's negro with a short I, 2 G's and a long A, what?

 My father's words are on repeat due to the position I currently work, which will change soon. Thank God for favor!  I'm grateful to be gainfully employed, BUT you gotta know that you know, and when to thank God and go!

 How in the entire employed and unemployed mentality can you be terrified of your "boss", and the "boss" is half terrified, too? I wrote that and started laughing...like what?

 I've shared this with close friends and I have to share it with my many admirers who will never personally meet me. Listen, my daddy said they're just people. People do what you allow. If you're not being treated right, you feel uneasy, or you just can't get right - just can't put your finger on it - they're just people. 

 Stand up for yourself. Speak up for yourself. We wrestle not with flesh, look that up in your Bible. The sad thing is some people don't even know they're best friends with a stankin' spirit. A spirit that's running and ruining their life. Why would you allow some raggedy mess to upset, discouraged and discombobulate you? Naw, playa, I think not.

 Life is a beautiful journey. One somebody somewhere loves you. Think on that and live.

 I luv you.

                               

The 2,555-Day Engagement

Seems like  I haven't worked on this book in the last 2,555 days...shame! I gotta get with it!

Here's the prologue for you, and to push me to light the computer keys up 😁

Enjoy!

*****

            A cool breeze filled our room as Luther serenaded us with Promise Me. Candlelight, music, and 800 thread count sheets made this night impeccable. Ever since Cameron and I met a few years ago at a Speed Dating event, my life has been just that – impeccable. Well, my own version of impeccabilities surrounded by a category 10 Tsunami. If a meteorologist had to make a prediction as to when it would hit, they would be unable to forecast the disaster that was yet to come.

Although brief, six minutes to be exact, we managed to cover a lot of ground. We discussed who our favorite singers were and when he said Luther was the man, I knew he was the one.

His snores were gentle as I rolled over to gaze at him. I slid my finger around his full lips and went in for a sweet exchange. He awoke when he felt my tender kiss.

“Uhm, woman, thou art loosed.”

“Cameron, stop it. Don’t start that kind of talk right now. Just stop it, okay?”

Everything about him pleased and annoyed me at the same time. The very first words from his mouth began a battle that he would never win.

“Listen, Monica, you and I both know what’s up. If you don’t like it, why do you keep coming back?

I couldn’t find any words to answer him. The words didn’t exist - yet.

“What you need to do is quit playing games and get rid of Mr. Super Sunday School. Why can’t you get with me fulltime? I treat you better than he ever has and you know it.”

How I managed to look directly into Cameron’s eyes and tell my truth, which was also my lie, was disrespectful. Sometimes I thought I was incapable of loving a man, yet I told Cameron that I loved him. He always said it in return and he didn’t have to. It always seemed like the right time to say it was when we were in my bedroom. A small part of me feels like he really does love me, which is okay, because all I can give him right now is a small part.

 “I can’t leave him. I can’t. He needs more time. Just a little more time.”

His expression changed to one of hurt devotion. Desperation and love should never reside in the same heart.

“You’ll be standing at the Pearly Gates talking to Jesus before he settles with you. Why can’t you see that, Monica?”

*****

I luv you.

Ground Wire

 

A ground wire serves as a connection and protection. It's needed for the proper flow of electricity and wards off electrical surges. It protects us from shocks, electrical shorts and misery. Imagine how angry you'd be if a short happened while charging your cell phone. Your Social Media presence will be affected and your cell phone will be BBQ qrill burnt toast. Oh, the horror.

A few weeks ago I rode to work in silence and thought about what I'm grounded to. What is my connection and protection? If you know me personally, you know God IS in my life. With my mistakes, incorrect thought process (I'll write about that one day. Eh, maybe not...) and everything long on wrong about me - God IS. If you know me personally you know that I love my daddy, weiner dogs, candles, writing, and running my mouth in front of a microphone. 

My father definitely was and is my ground wire. He's been heavy on my mind lately with all the "stuff" that's gone on in my life these past few years. With Father's Day approaching, and June being the month he died in, I'm all up in my feelings. And you know what? I am allowed to be. I just want to tell him that he was right! Man, was he right.

When I'd do a comedy show, I'd call him and give him a sports announcer play by play of the night. I'd tell him who was funny and who bombed. Of course I was the IT girl, I mean, I was, correction, am, Miss WandaLuv. My daddy was all in! I smiled so hard writing and remembering that.

He was my anchor. That's how I felt. My daddy was my anchor. I could travel anywhere, do anything, and live reckless in the streets of America because my daddy was here. He kept me grounded while I was out here flying like a free fool. Oh, the horror...

When he died, I felt that no one was here for me anymore. My anchor was gone. I had to get somewhere and sit down. It was when I was sitting that I became a maid to other folks mess. Like, ain't nobody got time for that.

At times during my silent ride I talked and laughed with my daddy and my Father. I realized who I'm grounded to. My gift is for me and I can still unwrap it and use it. My daddy told me to keep chippin' at it. 

"Keep chippin' at it, baby girl, just keep chippin'."

I can hear his voice loud and clear and I thank God for that. What I know for sure is that when I need a recharge, I can pick up my Bible, or look at my daddy's picture and I'm reminded of our conversations. Memories.

What is your ground wire? Think about what you're connected to and protected from. If your connection ain't your protection oooooooooweeeeeee...you best do some reevaluating.

It's just like right when you realize that you're alright. Yep...and I'm alright with me.

I luv you.