Tuesday, May 10, 2011

'Round Midnight

On the fourteenth night we were still being driven across the Adriatic Sea, when about midnight the sailors sensed they were approaching land. --Acts 27:27

I couldn't sleep last night.

I tried to count sheep; I tried thinking about sleep. I tried changing my position; I tried changing my breathing pattern. Yet, every time I even got close to REM, anger rose up within me. I started thinking about the "not fair" situations in my life--people who have hurt me with their words and actions...situations that just keep popping up, no matter how hard I try to avoid them.

Anger was like a Red Bull for me. It gave me energy, and not in a good way.

I kept going over what I should have said or could have said. Let's face it--I have the ability to make folks cry without ever having to raise my fist. I wanted them/him/her to hurt the way I was hurting.

They should be losing sleep, not me.

And then, midnight came.

There's just something about midnight that brings clarity. Perhaps it is because midnight is the official start of a new day. No matter what happened yesterday, midnight signifies the promises of a new day. It is the expiration date on problems; the recurring deposit of brand-new mercies.

At midnight, I could not take it anymore. I sat up and talked to God. As Pastor Reid would say, I spread my report before Him. No pretense--just the words on my heart without any censorship.

God, this fabulous vessel doesn't feel so fabulous right now. I'm wounded. I'm worn. I'm hurting. I need You.

And God came to see about me. Ain't that just like Him?

Instantly, I felt those heavy burdens lifted off of my shoulders. I closed my eyes and found the rest I so desperately needed. Probably a little too much because I overslept this morning...but that's neither here nor there.

As I sit here, I can't help but think about a few people in my life who are going through the same thing. You feel shipwrecked; the storms of life have battered you to the point where you are just hanging on by a rope. All around you, all you can see is rain...

To you, I say hang in there. Midnight is coming.

Be Encouraged,


Sunday, May 8, 2011

A Mother to the Motherless

In Christianity, there are times when we are guilty of saying things we don't fully understand. The phrases we heard the old deacons utter during devotion become a part of our lexicon--we never take the time to research exactly what they mean.

However, there is one phrase I know well:

"God, You are a mother to the motherless."

As I look back over the last fourteen years, I am blown away by God's hand on my situation. My mother died at the beginning of my adolescent years--at a time when I had way more questions than answers. And as much as I was grateful to have an awesome father, there are some things only a woman knows. Some special women stepped up to the plate, teaching me how to become the best woman I can be.

"Mommae" Sherry taught me how to be a bargain shopper. To this day, I rarely buy things that are not on clearance.

Aunt Lee taught me how to arch my eyebrows. Let's all breathe a sigh of relief that I no longer have a "unibrow."

Aunt Dy taught me how to cook....well, let me rephrase that. Aunt Dy taught me that I CAN cook because it is in my DNA. I just don't want to.

My beautiful Woodberry cousins showed me how to juggle it all. You can be a wife, mother, have a career and serve the Lord, all while looking FIERCE.

Aunt Cat taught me that I'm not crazy; I am just Regenia's child.

Mothers to the motherless.

To every woman out there who shared reassuring words, a comforting hug or just spoke my name in their prayers at night; to every woman who believed not in me, but what God could do through me, I say thank you. I do not have the words to adequately describe what you mean to me, but I will do my best to let my life express my gratitude.

To my mother--my inspiration, my heroine, my love--thank you. Most people say I have your intellect, your mannerisms or your wit...and all of that is true. However, I pray my heart and my spirit are even half as beautiful as yours. That, mommy, is why people still come up to me and share the many ways you touched their lives. That is why your name still resonates in the halls of the Liberal Arts Building at UCO. That is what makes me smile when I feel like crying. That is your legacy--the greatest gift of all.

Happy Mother's Day.

Be Encouraged,


Friday, May 6, 2011

Presenting: Me.

As I sit here, listening to the new Musiq CD and unwinding from a long week, I can't help but think about life...mainly, who I am when it comes to relating to the opposite sex.

Thank God for growth. I can remember that awkward, painful phase in my life when I tried to become whoever I was dating.

You like rap music? Oh my gosh, I loooooooove Talib Kweli and Rick Ross!

Mint chocolate ice cream? The best! I eat it all the time!

Oh yes, I've been a fan of the Lakers since the days of Kareem and Magic!

That relationship ended fast. I hate the Lakers.

In the years since, I have learned that the old adage is unbelievably true: I can only be me. Try as I might, the real Kayla will crash the party sooner rather than later.

So, who IS Kayla? I'm glad you asked.

(And forgive me, because I am about to talk about myself in third person.)

Kayla is complex. What makes me laugh on Thursday can make me cry on Sunday and vice versa.

Kayla is analytical. If you send me a text, trust me--I am scanning for the motive behind your period, comma or exclamation point.

Kayla has a really DRY sense of humor; if you don't understand sarcasm, you probably won't understand me.

Kayla loves to laugh--and not just a chuckle either. I'm talking about that laughter that requires complete participation from all extremities, leaving tears running down your face and you, gasping for breath.

Kayla likes competition. Kayla usually wins. ESPECIALLY basketball....not a threat, but a promise.

Kayla gives so much of herself that she MUST be surrounded by people who have her best interests at heart. Sometimes, the encourager needs to be encouraged.

Kayla is stubborn....one of those things you swear you're not going to inherit from your parents, but you do and it takes someone else to point it out.

Kayla is a diary. Like Alicia Keys, she won't tell your secrets.

Kayla is a work in progress.

Okay, that came out sounding like a cheesy match.com essay, but you know what I mean.

Dear hearts, stay true to you. In this world of 6.1 billion people, I choose to believe there exists someone who understands why I need fifteen minutes of quiet in the morning....or why I love roller coasters but remain scared to death of the Ferris wheel.

Someone out there gets me.

Here's to hoping my romantic GPS works.

Turn right. Turn left. You have arrived at your destination.

Be Encouraged,


Monday, May 2, 2011

The "Human" Blog Entry

Maybe it's the wind....it has been blowing awful hard lately.

Pandora isn't helping.

Janet Jackson--Anytime, Anyplace

Floetry--Say Yes

Mariah Carey--My All

Toni Braxton--I Love Me Some Him

See, I don't know why I even changed from my Israel Houghton station.

The Kayla in me is kind of embarrassed to talk about this, but I'm sure someone out there can feel me....and not literally.

Temptation looms.

Let's face it--there are times in life when we have those urges. I don't care how saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost you are, there are just some moments when EVERYBODY looks like your fantasy come to life.

So, what do you do?

I'll tell you what I'm going to do: RUN! I'm going to go home, put on my tennis shoes and hit the trails until I can't move another step. If it's too cold and rainy, there's always INSANITY.

Scratch that. At this present moment, Shaun T is a little too smexy for me to be seeing on a daily basis.Better stick with Billy Blanks.

I'm going to take a COLD shower (yes, it works for women too), crawl into bed and pray that this raging fire within is soon downgraded to a puff of smoke....and pray there's a shortage of the following colognes:

--Issey Miyake
--David Beckham

In fact, I hope every man is forced to wear something like....Old Spice. Yeah. It's safe if you smell like my grandpa.

And finally, I am going to wear sunglasses all day, everyday. Apparently, I flirt with my eyes and there can be none of that right now. Just call me Ray Charles.

I'm not answering my phone....
Text messages...
Facebook?!?!?! Oh, heck no. That's just begging for trouble.

I'll see y'all when this passes.


The Baptist Nun

(Note: By now, I hope you've figured out this entry is satirical. If it made you scoff instead of smile....then my goodness, you don't really know me at all! For shame!!!! LOL)