Healing Isn’t Colorblind: Why My Love Begins with Blackness
The love I exude for Black people—PGM!—can be felt by everyone. It’s not selective, because love—true, divine, holy love!—knows no bounds. My love is God’s love.
The love I exude for Black people—PGM!—can be felt by everyone. It’s not selective, because love—true, divine, holy love!—knows no bounds. My love is God’s love.
To overcome addiction is to slow down enough to notice: Why am I reaching for this? What am I trying not to feel?
Are you truly self-aware, or just self-critical? Because God doesn’t just call us to notice what’s broken—He invites us to see what’s beautiful, sacred, and already whole. Awareness isn’t just good—it’s God.
Though the bird of death attacked you physically, you, My child, are safeguarded and protected, and no harm can come to you. Though weapons may form, they will NEVER prosper, for I, the Lord your God, am with you and send an army of angels to keep, guide, and protect you!
Why worry when I can pray? Why worry when I can safely forget because You—the God who knows, hears, and sees ALL—will and does remember?! Thank You, God, for this freedom. For this liberation. For this knowing. For this understanding.
I am learning that not everything I share will be received as I intend. A few weeks ago, I spoke openly from my heart, and someone took offense. It shook me—this space is sacred to me. But I now understand my role is not to control how my words land—only to speak and let them exist.
I do not call it love when someone I’m dating neglects me. So why would I call it love when I neglect myself? Neglect is not love—not when it comes from others, and not when it comes from you.
To me (and in my humble opinion it should be for er’body!), all of humanity is normal. After all, whoever God created in His image is ‘fearfully and wonderfully made,’ so who are we to decide who’s abnormal?! THE AUDACITY! When we say ‘___ is not normal,’ what we’re really saying is ‘___ is different than me,’ and that difference makes them abnormal. Ah who say so?!”
And for too many of us, they turned into self-hatred so deep, so consuming, that it felt like an unbearable truth. But what if I told you that everything you’ve believed about yourself—the shame, the doubt, the fear—was never true? What if I told you that you were made in love, by love, for love, to love? That the world doesn’t get the final say—God does?
These fears have been swirling around in my head for a while, but I hadn’t taken the time to name them. And as I was writing them out, something amazing happened—they started to dissipate. Fear isn’t from God—it’s something that tries to hold me back from the bold, courageous steps I’ve been called to take.