L.A.M.B.S.

The muting of a woman's voice isn't a new issue but it's a lingering problem in our world. As much as we chant that girls run the world -- in most countries and boardrooms and in many homes -- women still don't have a voice. I'm not talking about having a place at the table. Being in the room and being heard and respected are two very different things. I recently met with a colleague to talk about our career paths and obstacles to our success. Each of us has a seat at the table but I'm usually muted because I'm a woman of color. She's muted because she's considered "edgy". What does that even mean? A woman can't ask difficult questions or bring up uncomfortable subjects without being labeled difficult, outspoken or edgy. A woman of color can't speak passionately about a topic without being called angry or aggressive. We're not heard in the boardroom but we're also not heard at home or in society. I believe that our sil

N othing is as painful as believing that you’re responsible for what someone did to you. And nothing is as condemning as the shame and guilt of the choices you made because of your assumed responsibility.  If I knew then what I know now Would’ve not been hard to figure out What I would’ve changed if I had heard Dear younger me It’s not your fault You were never meant to carry this beyond the cross The first time I heard  Dear Younger Me , I was overwhelmed with a sense of . . . truth. In three minutes and thirty-seven seconds, my life changed. I was abused multiple times in my childhood. As a little girl, I believed and accepted that I’d done something wrong. That I'd put out some weird energy that brought those people to me. I thought that maybe I was too nice or too cute. When I was older and it happened again, I believed that I was responsible for the cycle.  I accepted that I owned the pain and I caused the suffering. Even worse, I thought that God thoug

Even though I love this crazy life Sometimes I wish it was a smoother ride Dear younger me, dear younger me If I knew then what I know now Condemnation would’ve had no power My joy my pain would’ve never been my worth We’ve all thought, “If I knew then what I know now, I would have . . . “ fill in the blank with a better choice, the straighter path, a more thoughtful decision, what you think is the right thing to do. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what I would have done if I knew then what I know now. I was a little girl who’d been violated. I’d lost my innocence, my hope, my childhood.  And for two decades, I made choices from a place of deep, searing pain. I did whatever I had to do to protect myself. I made a choice to survive, to hide, to fade away into the darkness. And the people who should have pulled me out let me sink deeper into a private hell. No one offered a helping hand, a kind word, a hug, a kiss, a word of encouragement. They didn’t even notice that I&#

Dear younger me I cannot decide Do I give some speech about how to get the most out of your life Or do I go deep And try to change The choices that you’ll make cuz they’re choices that made me No one likes to be told that they’ve done something wrong – or is it just me? I’ll listen to you talk all day if you’re going to share something that may change my life, but if your speech turns into a lecture – no thank you. The bottom line is that the power of life and death live in your tongue. And honestly, people don’t need another speech about what they should have done or what you would have done differently if you were in their shoes. But do you want to know what is powerful? Your story. Your vulnerability. Your testimony. Your shortcomings. Your lessons learned. And your willingness to share – all of it. The good things in life are – well, good. But it’s the challenges in life that build character, strength, and resilience. I’ve never heard anyone tell a story where ev

I wonder how much different things would be Dear younger me Our minds have the ability to dream about the future and remember the past.  I’d bet that most of us spend our time thinking about what we could have or should have done differently. We spend countless hours, days, and years replaying events and wondering what would have happened if we made a different choice. We ask ourselves questions like: What if I’d fought harder? What if I’d gone to school when I had the chance? What if I’d asked for more money when I took the job? What if I’d stayed instead of leaving? What if I’d left when it happened the first time? What if I’d chosen a different profession? What if I’d chosen a different mate? What if . . . and the list goes on. We spend the precious time that we have now running through scenarios that could have, maybe, possibly changed our current situation. We play the blame game. We cry. We get angry. We. Waste. Time.  I believe the only reason we sh

If I could tell you everything that I have learned so far Then you could be One step ahead Of all the painful memories still running thru my head Last night, I reminisced about experiences I hadn’t thought about in over twenty years. Fleeting emotions ran through my Spirit – shame, sadness, anger, disappointment. My shame doesn’t come from the abuse – it comes from all of the wrong choices I made as a result of the abuse. But what was I to do as I matured into a young woman? By the time I was sixteen, I’d been sexually assaulted three times and molested by a babysitter.  One thing I know for sure is that when you’ve experienced trauma, you find ways to cope. One of my tactics was to compartmentalize the pain. It helped me get through some of the most challenging years of my childhood.  My innocence was gone. My rose-colored glasses shattered. My Spirit fell asleep. I functioned in a spiritual twilight throughout my high school and college years – partially awake but m

Dear younger me Where do I start? Have you ever heard a song that hit you in the gut like a well-choreographed jab from a seasoned fighter? A song that you can’t stop singing because the lyrics resonate with every part of your life? Dear Younger M e by MercyMe is one of those songs. The first time I heard it, I had such a visceral reaction that I thought I might have to pull over and steady myself. By the fourth verse I was a sobbing mess and could barely see the road. The line touched a place so deep in my Spirit that I knew God was speaking to me. I still tear up when I hear it. I bought the song and played it on repeat for weeks. Sometimes for hours a day. Weird, right? I thought so . . . until I realized that those words were opening up some part of me that closed long ago. The entire song was a prayer or was it an answered prayer? It brought up memories and feelings that I didn’t know I had. It also made me think – what would I tell my younger self if I had the c