Kimberly Brown's Blog, page 2

Prejudice-Privileged-People

(Theme: “Bleed the Same” By: Mandisa, feat. Toby Mac & Kirk Franklin)
 
 
Quote: “Never look down on anybody unless you're helping them up.” -Jesse Jackson
 

              First, I want to preface this week’s blog post; I in no way intended to minimize or be insensitive to the atrocities taking place in the world concerning acts of hate based on the color of one’s skin. I am doing my best to speak carefully and considerately. There are horrible things that have happened in recent present, as well as in the past two hundred plus years here on this continent (America).
 
              I do not seek to compare, or say any one group has suffered; more or less. Suffering is suffering, injustice is injustice and a crime against humanity is a crime. We all were created by God; equal. We all deserve; love, respect, and every opportunity anyone else would get. We should not be mistreated or looked down on the basis of; skin color, gender, age, height, weight, sexual orientation, self identifying, religious beliefs or a lack there of. In truth I hold firmly to the statement above, by Jesse Jackson. ‘Never look down on anybody unless you’re helping them up.’ [emphasis added].
 
              With this stated, I want to talk about prejudice. I didn’t want to talk about this now, when the topic is so sensitive due to this most recent and disgusting evil act against a man that should not have died. Yet, I feel so strongly on my heart the need to speak. To share and be open about what I feel, think and fear.
 
              Our nation is one of the most in denial places concerning prejudice. I wish to approach this topic logically and with vulnerability. I do not want to hurt anyone’s feelings, I want to talk about what I have noticed and experienced. Please, do not comment with hate, I will not allow arguments to erupt. I do not care if you are family, friends, fellow Christians or even coworkers. If I hear even a hint of disrespect towards anyone based on what is listed above or any other sort of judging/minimalizing. I will block and unfriend you. If you do on the other hand struggle with prejudice and wish to explore why. To be vulnerable and ask for guidance, seek to share what led to you feeling this way. That is a healthy conversation I would love for us to have.
 
Now, to define how I perceive prejudice;
 
Prejudice is not Racism.
 
Racism says; ‘I hate you because you are a certain skin color.’ (This is a heart issue, full of anger and inability to empathize or recognize someone as even being human).
 
Prejudice says; ‘I don’t trust you, I fear you and I will avoid you’ (This is a matter of ignorance and not knowing how to relate/empathize. Sadly this can grow into a hate of someone based on skin color if allowed to grow bitter and fill with lies).
 
The majority of people possess some form of prejudice. Even in a small way. Here are only a few of the kinds listed below:
 
1. Prejudice against African Americans;
 
              A prejudice I don’t understand. I cannot seem to wrap my mind around why this perpetuates and continues. It was they, who were enslaved, treated as ‘half a vote’, raped, attacked, killed and not allowed due process of the law for so long. (The only thing I can guess is some lies of individuals in the past have perpetuated into the present).
 
2. Prejudice against Middle Eastern people;
 
              The main reason I know of is 9/11 and the assumptions that they are all ‘terrorists’. Which is a lie, I’m sad to hear so many believe. So many kind, generous and loving people from the Middle East suffer needlessly and are ‘randomly’ (insert eye roll...) picked out of lines to be ‘inspected’.
 
3. Prejudice of Jewish/Hebrew people;
 
              I hear so many anti-Semitic things in television and casual conversations. To this day they are looked down on, judged and hated for idiotic reasons I also cannot fathom. Israel is incredibly generous; according to Gallup (https://www.gallup.com/analytics/245165/worlds-most-generous-countries-2018.aspx) ranked with a score of 42 (the highest being 59), and is more economically and socially involved then more than half of the other countries in the entire world. This wouldn’t seem such a big deal unless you consider how tiny they are.
 
4. Prejudice of Native Americans;
 
              This is a prejudice that runs rampant as well. It seems since many tribes and reservations mostly keep to themselves, we stay incredibly ignorant of just what atrocities still occur. We even see them in movies and wonder ‘gee why are reservation police such jerks? The FBI/Local Police ‘white man’ is just trying to get a criminal!’ No, they are careful because; rape, beatings, unfair process and more still happen today. If you don’t believe me then seek out the truth, ask people and learn just how fresh the abuse and hate is. 
 
5. Prejudice of Hispanic/Latino;
 
              How about the fact that we keep calling them the wrong thing? ‘Oh, they’re from Spain right? No, from Latin America? No, Mexico!’ How about it doesn’t matter what country their ancestors are from? If someone wants to share, that’s fine. If you want to talk about ‘where they grew up’ and where you ‘grew up’? Why does it matter how their ancestors, parents or they themselves came to be here? Oh, we’re SO worried about losing jobs to ‘illegal immigrants’ and say hurtful slurs and statements like ‘go back to where you came from’.
 
              Well if that is the case then how about you go back to Germany? Or perhaps Ireland? Or maybe England? How about somewhere in Europe? The majority of us, didn’t come to this land by ‘proper means’. We ran, swam, snuck in! Good for you if your ancestors actually followed a proper process, but how many didn’t? You husbands great grandfather? Your Wife’s great grandmother? Your best friends great aunt or uncle? And most of the land was stolen from the ones who settled it first by the way. *Cough-Cough* Native Americans *Cough-Cough*.
 
6. Religion Prejudice;
 
              Both from those inside religions and outside of them. We assume a group will be a certain way because of a past experience, media or who knows what lies were spoken to us from family/media. All Christians are not hateful, foolish and judgmental. Are some? Yes. Not all Islamic are extremist terrorists. Have there been some? Yes. Not all Jews are selfish/greedy and think their better than others. Has there been any? Of course! I won’t list out every religion, but there is good and bad. Right and wrong, ignorance and wisdom, in every group and category. We need to not judge a group by a couple of bad eggs. After all, it’s the bad ones that get the most highlight, the good ones often are ignored. Violence/Crime are what sells papers and makes it into history books more often than not sadly.
 
7. Gender/Identity Prejudice;
 
              Women and the glass ceiling. Pink Tax. How about the fact that they were not allowed to vote at all. When slaves were allowed for a vote to count as ‘1/2’, women didn’t count as even that much. Looked down on, abused, held back and assumptions of their worth. Some countries would let the baby girls wash away in storms, others use women as bartering chips like they would cattle. The majority of Domestic or Sex crimes happen to women. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex_differences_in_crime#Statistics)
 
              Still men also receive prejudice. Mostly by women. I will not go into detail here, because this is a big part of my story below. One key thing to remember is assumption of prejudice is in and of itself a prejudice.  
 
              Looking down on someone because of their choices? Judging someone, and mistreating them based on how they dress, speak, act and choose to express themselves? Their sexual orientation and actions make so many people act cruel or rude. It’s mind boggling. Okay, do I have to agree? No. Do I need to accept that persons personal convictions as my own and teach it to others? No. Do I need to respect each individual and as long as they mean me no harm, and be kind and considerate? Yes. If you can’t agree, then respect the option to disagree. Have mature and intelligent conversations and be able to admire that the differences are what allow wisdom and understanding. We all have a story.
 
8. This brings us to White/Caucasian Prejudice;
 
              Yes, this does exist. (And no, I’m not talking about ‘reverse racism’ that is an oxymoron. The opposite of racism would mean that I don’t have hate towards anyone. Racism/prejudice as you see above is not owned by any one group) It seems to me, the fact that it’s wrong to call any other tone of skin, a color, but not ‘white’ people. Is a small hint that there is a prejudice. If it is wrong for one ethnicity, then it should be wrong for all. I myself am more of a peach color.
 
              That’s not the only reason though, please read my story to see what manner of prejudice I have experienced. And once again, I’m not saying it’s worse or better than any other. Just that I have hurts and past pain. I want to have a healthy conversation and transparency. The only way I believe we can heal, is if we have a dialog. Not a monolog. We need all sides. Not just one or two. All. This is an invitation. I want to learn, and I want others to learn about me. To at least understand where I am coming from, the more we understand one another the more we can relate and empathize.
 
 
How my prejudice was born:
 
 
              I, growing up as a white, below middle class, female in America, lived in various neighborhoods. I have experienced different types of prejudice. This is a snapshot of my story;
 
              As a little girl, I was bullied. I wore glasses, had asthma, and later around puberty (9-10 for me) gained a lot of weight. It was the perfect storm to get picked on. We didn’t make tons of money to afford fancy or expensive clothing and stuff. My clothing was budget; second hand, or from Walmart. I had no friends, and the few I ever got, I always had to say goodbye to because stuff happened, like my dad lost his job, or something.
 
              In Elementary, I had rich kids act like I was nothing, I was told by one kid that, he was my friend, but when he was in front of others he was mean. This hurt more than the girls who ignored me. I was injured with a concussion at school, and my teacher (a mean white woman) did not show care or concern. She had me walk to get a wet paper towel for my head (after falling down several steps and landing headfirst). She lied to my parents saying she sent me to a nurse. I was pulled from the school to begin homeschooling. Before then my mom was working, but went from two incomes to one income. She also began being a teacher for my cousins as well. 
 
              I lived in a Hispanic neighborhood, where we had thugs, blaring their radio, throwing glass bottles into the sewer (Where a family of stray cats lived) located in front of my house. They did this regularly, it shook the windows and walls. It would be late at night while sleeping or early in the morning before waking up. A Hispanic family across the street, was cruel to their little terrier dog. It would get out, the poor thing was malnourished, and flea ridden. They had a big dog that we were certain abused this little one. We fed the dog and put a flea collar on it, but he wasn’t ours so we didn’t try to keep him. The little dog went home. Later, he returned and looked in worse condition, the flea collar had been taken off and we decided to keep him. We didn’t hide it, and no one seemed to care. He was so malnourished that once we began to feed him properly he grew almost twice his normal size.  
 
              Being a little girl, I might have began to believe all Hispanic people acted this way, but thankfully I was introduced to a family that was my cousin was best friends with the son of. I met the girls Trisha and Lexi, I loved the girls and their mom! They were the sweetest, I visited them and stayed the night. I loved them so much.
 
              The people who owned our house, kicked us out, not because we didn’t pay, but because they decided to give the house to their kids. This was after my dad had a Stroke and was fired because he couldn’t work during that time. We couldn’t afford anything in that area, or even the surrounding areas. So we moved about an hour away from all family, friends and familiar ground. We couldn’t afford to drive and visit people, so I became very isolated.
 
              The place we found was an all African American neighborhood. I loved my next-door neighbors, A husband and wife. The sweetest people. She would call me ‘Miss Kim’.  Sadly, on the other side and behind us, were not nice people; who abused their dogs and were very rude. We didn’t trust the police for various reasons. So we wouldn’t call anyone, which left me feeling helpless.
 
              We wanted to find a church home, so my dad went to the ‘All black-church’ that was just down the road from us. The pastor and several staff loved him, and he enjoyed the service. He was going to tell us to come and that we would love it to. However, after his first visit, his tired got slashed. There was another day, that my dad was dressed in a hat, glasses, and more covert looking clothing (probably due to winter). Our neighbor, the ones we loved greeted him with ‘Boy what are you doing down in here?’ Apparently he said something along the lines of ‘you better get going’ then realized when my dad turned around who he was and was like ‘Oh, shoot it’s you!’ When I learned these things I became fearful. We were white, and we were obviously not welcome. I distanced myself form interacting with even my sweet neighbors, because they were saying that based on skin color. Even if they were nice to me, that meant they didn’t like white people. I was white, I couldn’t change that.
 
              Later, the person who owned our house, decided to take the payments from us, not pay the bank and ran. Resulting in the bank telling us we had to leave. Once again, in a rush we had to move. Due to the financial hardship, we split up. I stayed with my cousin and my parents stayed with my aunt. We lost several of our dogs (We kept rescuing strays) The pain was immense. One dog got hit by a car, and the others were no longer able to be housed. We had to say goodbye, and no one could take them from us. The trauma of putting our ‘family members’ in a shelter, and not knowing if they were put to sleep or found homes haunts us to this day.
 
              Later my parents managed to get a place they could afford, the apartments were full of pimps, drug dealers, and prostitutes. We had to hide that we were still over the legal limit of dogs at the apartments; Especially since we couldn’t afford the dog deposit. These were the 2 oldest and their 3 kids (2 of which I had with me).
 
              My mom and dad struggled; strained, stressed and ended legally separated. I had moved back in with my dad, when my cousin was moving. (I lost one of my 2 dogs while I was there, he ran away from fear during a power outage. I searched and never found him). While living there, we connected with a church that studied the Jewish roots of Christianity. My dad started to minister to the residents with our church. Sharing about Jesus and asking them if they could pray with them. Dad asked me to go along, so I did. During it, this one guy stared at me, and it was that feeling that left me... unsettled. I felt sick and my skin was crawling. I was around 17 at this point. (I believe he was white).
 
              I started noticing how guys looked at me after that, like I was something they ‘wanted’, but not a person. I began to hate that I was a woman. I started to try and walk different. Stop my hips from swaying. Baggy clothing and no bra to hide my chest. I didn’t wear makeup, and dressed like a boy.
 
              Not long later, two girls were found decapitated in a building not far away within our complex. (It was on the news) I drew into myself, avoided people more, especially men. I started to carry a knife. Planned what I would do if I was grabbed. Many little things happened along the way; Such as when I went to the store, in an all Hispanic neighborhood. I got looks that made sure I knew ‘I didn’t belong’, especially from the women. The men typically gave me that ‘object’ look.
 
              It wasn’t until much later that I learned how much of a prejudice I grew to have. Towards men, all men. I was certain they looked at me like I was only worth ‘sex’ in their eyes. I was sure that most women either looked down on me or hated me because ‘I didn’t belong’. Memories of an apartment that was shot at in a drive by, mold under my carpet, living even now in an apartment that my neighbors pot smoke and cigarette smoke sometimes billows into my house, causing immense asthma attacks, dizziness, headaches. I have even gotten so high I wanted to throw up and could barely see straight.
 
              Thanks to the kind people I met, I didn’t gain a prejudice of skin color, but of people in general. I thought women looked down on me because I was ugly and not worth a kind word. While men only cared about ‘one thing’. We all have a story. We all experience prejudice and I get angry when we don’t acknowledge the other sides of the equation. Just like other ethnicities, white people have to deal with hate as well. We can be assumed to be redneck and assumed to be racist. We need to know each other’s story.
 
I fear ‘offending’ people by using the terms; black, Indian, Hispanic.. Phrases I heard my whole life; said in the wrong way or to the wrong person can have serious backlash. Even if my intentions are not mean. As a writer I fear, how I ‘describe’ skin tone, and if I write as a black person or any other ethnicity will I get hate? It’s paralyzing, and what can we do?
 
Above I used the term Racist/Racism, but throughout my story I mostly stuck with Prejudice, because I don’t ‘hate’, I feared. I am coming to a place of healing and understanding of lies I believed. Some lies that have left me with physical problems due to ‘retraining’ the way I walked I now suffer terrible pain and have to train myself to walk like a ‘woman’ does.
 
There is one last thing I want to speak of.
 
How Racism is born:
 
              This is a strong statement, but please stick with me. Scientifically no one is Racist.
 
              To be Racist, you have to hate the entire human race. All of a species. Like all dogs, or all cats...
 
              Calling people of different ethnic groups, a ‘Race’ insinuates we are all different races, not human. It’s a wrong mentality and we need to acknowledge we are all humans. Equal, the same just looking different. We have pain, a past and a story. Using the term Racism literally means looking at others as ‘lesser’, sub-human.
 
              We need a new word, I lean towards ‘Ethnicist’ someone against an Ethnicity. Most people don’t hate though. They fear, don’t understand or don’t know how to unlearn what they were taught. Truth is what will win, Truth told in a loving way. An invitation to learn, to understand and educate. Both sides of the story. We must remember it’s not them VS us, it’s us verses a lie! 

​If only words

​(Theme: “If Everyone Cared” By: Nickleback)
 
Quote: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.” (John 15:13 NIV)

                                                                                           If only words: 

If only words could match. If only gratitude could be expressed. Worthy of the sacrifice they made, for all of the rest.

We may not all agree on the why and where’s, but we must agree that without them we wouldn’t be here.
To enjoy the freedom that we have; a price so high has been paid.

I am grateful to each and everyone alive and no longer here. For the sacrifice of your life; for those you love so dear.

Without the warriors, the pacifists would have had their rights taken by force. Without war, peace can never be achieved. We may not like it, but it is a truth that cannot be changed.

To defend freedom and stand against those who would kill remorselessly. Sacrifices of those noble souls have been made.

I wish words were enough. My prayers are; for those who still fight, for those who have already lost and for those that are about to lose; another precious warrior to a never ending battle.

As long as greed and hate rule, As long as people are seen as valueless tools, As long as we forget that what happens to one happens to all; more noble warriors will die to defend, and answer the call.

So maybe there is one thing that we can do. Not just morn those that have fought and sacrificed, but to change the world and save their lives.

We the people have the power to change. One person at a time, reshape this world we have been given.
We must choose to love and not to hate. We must choose to understand even if we don’t agree.

People will deny you, people will hurt you, but instead of getting mad and getting even. Seek to understand why. Seek to reach out the olive branch. If instead of starting wars we look to end them. Then the world will be changed. The world will transform and maybe then we can have fewer reasons to morn.

There will always be those who seek to take away precious life, but as long there are those of us who will continue to fight; whether with weapons or with words. Let us stand and honor those who have gone before. Then continue to stand for those who still fight. We should all stand for what we know it right.
 
God Bless each and every one of you this Memorial day.  

The Power of Perspective

(Theme: “Voice of Truth” By: Casting Crowns)
​

Quote: “Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth." -Henry David Thoreau

 
I don’t think we realize how powerful perspective is. I was to have two whole weeks off. Half was vacation time and half was holiday from work. The events that follow underline two different unique perspectives, both laying out accurately the occurrences, but the focus is what differs.

 
Perspective 1:

 
The past two weeks have been hell;


First I felt lousy and wore out and spent all my ‘weekend’ trying to prepare for Christmas. This was further tainted by the declining health of our family dog at his recent vet visit. We ended up canceling all the fun we had planned, my mom and dad meeting my boyfriends mom and dad. Exchanging Christmas gifts and then going out to look at Christmas lights.


Right after Christmas dinner our dog Gabriel passed away, I struggled the next few days with being angry, feeling sick, sad and depressed.


My friend Michelle, my boyfriend Josh and my dad all tried to cheer me up on different days, but I was left with a hollow emptiness and sorrow.


When the time for the weekend came I had to cancel going to Holiday in the Park at Six Flags and using the free tickets I got to the special drive-through lights because of how sick I felt.


On New Year’s Eve my mom, boyfriend and I all got food poisoning from the 1 special drink we all had, apparently the ice-cream had gone bad.


We were all sick the next several hours, my mom and I so much it lingered for over a day. I had no energy or emotional ability to really connect to anything or anyone.


The food poisoning lingered a good while, and then I finally had a day I felt good. With all the things on my agenda I wanted to accomplish, I decided to work to at least get rid of one of those things which was going through two bins of paper to get rid of trash shred the stuff that was confidential and file scan or copy into my computer the important documents. I worked for eight hours, I finally finished because my mom and dad chipped in.


By this point I was in so much pain I could hardly sit upright and then when I went to bed and woke up the next morning I was in even worse pain. This was the day that I found out it was the female time of the month.


So just as I started this holiday, I end it with feeling crappy…
 

Perspective 2:

 
The past two weeks have been a challenging time, full of growth as well as a real trial with family and relationships.

Before Christmas break, I and my family discovered our dog Gabriel was suffering from about five terminal illnesses. They assured us he wasn’t suffering, just not feeling very good. Many options were laid before us, but none that provided hope. So we did the only thing we knew to do, lavish love and attention on him and do everything in our power to make him happy and feel loved. We played with him, took pictures, spoke reassuringly... just did everything we could think to do.


God told my dad that he would make it through Christmas and life proceeded somewhat as normal, I wrapped presents and worked on doing any last-minute preparations for Christmas. On Christmas Day we enjoyed opening presents together, talking, having fun. We watched a movie, and then my boyfriend came over. We opened his presents and the presents he had for us and once we had finished that. My dad announced that our dog had passed away. Gabriel had gone to my room, a place that was comforting to him apparently. And though we cried and were all very sad and emotional. It made me feel somewhat happy to know that I was a person of comfort to him, and that he didn’t have to be put to sleep. Instead he was allowed to pass away in his own home, where he knew he was loved and safe.


God blessed me during this time, since my work had provided the entire week off, and this allowed me to have time t0 grieve. Going through all the stages of emotions, anger disbelief, sorrow…


Then I was blessed by a dear friends who wanted to help show me how loved I was and that I wasn’t alone. My best friend took me out to eat, her treat. She spent time with me, we played games and she did her best to help me know that I was loved and I wasn’t alone. Though I struggled, feeling so many emotions. My gratitude towards her knows no bounds.


The very next day, my boyfriend took me out and did the same. Letting me know I wasn’t alone and that I was loved that there would be light and joy again.


Then it was my dad‘s turn. He took me to the mall and we spent a little money that I shouldn’t have, but we had fun and it was great being with him like that. We enjoyed each other‘s company, came home, ate a meal, and watched TV together.


Though I was still struggling through the emotions and feeling somewhat numb, it was reassuring to have so many people show love and affection towards me.

 
After Thoughts:
 

When I started writing this, I needed to get out my anger and my feelings (Perspective 1). Basically to say “This is so unfair!” However after writing that I realized it was only looking at everything that was wrong, but not what was right. Now one thing you can notice is in Perspective Two, I didn’t make it all unicorns and rainbows. No I was hurting, admitted it, but also saw hope. Saw light, and felt love. The two perspectives are both right, both contain ‘Facts’, but only one contains ‘Truth’. Facts can mislead, Facts can be misinterpreted, even if you have ‘all the facts’, you can still come to a wrong conclusion.


Truth however, looks beyond facts, beyond just a single instance. It looks at the world as a whole, at people around you. Facts focus on a person’s own personal filter. The lens they view reality through. (Which can be skewed by, family, pain and geography). Truth is bigger, wider, deeper and more profound. That is why Jesus said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.’ It’s more than just a limited filter, but the perspective of One that is Omniscience and Omnipresent. Knows all, sees all, is all.


How often do we forget to focus on what ‘Type’ of perspective we use? Fact (#1) or Truth (#2)? We need to be careful we don’t just count facts and come to our own conclusions. We need outside sources, bigger, broader, and able to see further down the road than we can, before we can truly say what is ‘True’. We can’t do it alone, so I know this... I’m ready to quit trying. What about you? 

Long time no see

(Theme: “My Sacrifice” By: Creed)

Quote: "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." -Dr. Seuss
 
“So... Yes, I just started a sentence off in a way that is horrible grammatically. However That’s the point. This blog should have good grammar, but it also should be written in a way that if you talked to me in person, you would realize this is how I actually talk, but I digress.
 
As I was saying; So, it’s been a ridiculous amount of time since I wrote on this blog. I have let life’s struggles and battles steal my peace, my joy, my passion and my purpose. I could make a bunch of excuses, but that’s beside the point. It took a while for me to listen to God and come back. I kept ‘waiting to feel it’. I realized that day wasn’t really going to come. Every day I felt the urge to write, I was too tired. The days I found time to write, I had no drive or ideas. Even this is not as well thought out or planned as my first two blogs.
 
Even though I have a few topics to write on and some roughly scratched out things in the works. I needed to start this year’s first blog off with me being real. I saw no comments and even though I said I didn’t care if anyone read it. Obviously I do. I figured ‘What’s the point?’ and put it off. Never mind that writing gives me life. I feel charged and strengthened when I write. I never seem to think or see things as clearly as I do when I’m allowed to write without a specific agenda, but just sharing my heart, thoughts and even fears.
 
Future blogs may be full of controversy, my own personal perspectives and research, how I view the world or even poetry. This is why I will now post a poem I wrote during my ‘Silent period’.
 
“Broken Pieces:
My heart is broken, 1000 pieces on the floor
Words unspoken, I can’t do this anymore
Pain to real, fears too strong
I want to heal, need to belong
The ache of loneliness, yet a need to hide
What is the point? Why do I have this inside?
Though they listen, I still feel misunderstood
Upside down and backwards, can’t tell bad from good
The pain of a breaking heart
Has become my anthem and casting part.
Without this, breaking numbness seems to remain
Then I sink, deeply down a drain
Help me God, what’s wrong with me?
Why am I so broken? How can this be?
How do I love when I feel like I’m dead.
How can this world be inside my head?
Fear and worry, anxiety and grief
Are the demons that haunt every belief.
I trust in you, yet still I fall.
Desperate for, my all in all.
I want to quit, I want to flee.
Why do I avoid, what can save me?
To run away from what can set me free?
From the One and the people that can help me to fight?
To at last stand in the light, and not fear the loss of my might
Oh death thy sting is really nothing,
Oh grave you are not that brave.
Why God do I feel so deep?
Why is it worse when I try to sleep?
These words and emotions come, I wear them well.
That is to say, I’m being put through hell.
Am I doing things wrong, am I too blind to see?
Have I been deceived, and can’t comprehend thee?
I just need a word, one that says I’m sane, that way I can hold on to it again and again.
I know I’m loved, chosen and free.
Yet these chains still chafe me.
This thorn in my side, your Grace does heal.
But in honesty, there are times I wonder if it’s real.
I wish I believed, Wished I trusted.
Wish I could oil the heart that is rusted.
I need to believe and yet I doubt, but I want to so please help me out?
I will try to let You do your part, and quit trying to repair my own heart.
This ache inside, these burning tears.
Sooth the scares and wash over these years.
Am I fixed? Can I stand?
No, I’m just me. Lend me a hand…
-GWKim”
 
This is me in a very raw state, I shared my heart, my feelings and pain in that moment of time. It is a snap shot into my very heart, soul and mind. Many called it beautiful, many congratulated me on being so open, and a few reached out. They had meals and talked with me. Then of course there were those one or two people that had something negative to say.
 
I understand their hearts, but correcting, pointing out what’s wrong or what is not ‘theologically’ accurate is not what I needed to hear. When you share your heart and soul it’s not based on scientific facts and historical accuracy. It’s not a matter of doctrine or criminal intent. It is feelings expressed in a way that is pure and true in the moment that they were expressed. They shouldn’t be held against a person, but taken as a simple expression. Like a work of art, a song, etc...
 
I wanted to cry, but while I was in the shower praying. Replaying what happened and why it hurt. I heard a simple yet profound statement come from deep within. ‘It hurts because you were vulnerable.’ All at once it hit me, my personal development had said continually, “Get better at being vulnerable.’, “Share and be real”. This was a victory. It wouldn’t have hurt unless I had been vulnerable, I took a risk to expose my heart and that means I may get hurt, but I could smile.
 
In a way I think this may be why I haven’t come back until now. I was afraid of the backlash, of the judgment, mean comments and accusing fingers that may come my way. However, I believe that every single person  is so wonderfully made, so unique and beautiful that to hide that true self is a disservice for not only the whole world, but to themselves as well. So no matter how hard, I seek to share. To be real. I pray I’m strong enough to laugh and rejoice when others have something ‘negative’ to say, because I know that it’s my personal act of stepping out in faith and sharing in the purest and truest way I can share. In writing.”

What Christmas is all about

(Theme: “Light of Christmas” By: Owl City, Feat. Toby Mac)
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Quote: “Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!”
― Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
 
“When I sat down to write something for Christmas I began to ask this question. ‘Have I figured out what Christmas is all about?’ What prompted this question was an amazing song by Owl City and Toby Mac called “Light of Christmas” (https://youtu.be/boE2kR7gQKw).
 
There are many people who have different answers to what ‘Christmas is all about’. Charity, gift giving, Santa Clause, flying reindeer, snow, receiving gifts, and of course the baby Jesus and the Nativity. So the question becomes, what answers are right? What answers are wrong? Are there wrong answers or is it only what it means to each individual?
 
The answer to that is very simple. Yes and No. First we should breakdown what Christmas is. Now I’m not going to tear down Christmas by listing all the paganism that exists within it. Sorry cynics, but that isn’t what’s important. If you want to research where the origin of the choice of December 25th came from, (Not Jesus’ true Birthday by the way, sorry but shepherds wouldn’t be in the fields during winter). You can also research the origin of the tree, the gift giving and Saint Nicolas. That’s not what Christmas is all about.
 
You see to find the real origin you have to go back further than the ‘official’ declaration of the day. To do that you need to look at the Jewish culture. (Which pre-dates/negates those pagan practices). Sadly a story that most are not aware of. Jews and Catholics are probably the most informed about its origin. That’s right the true story of Hanukah. Without spending hours writing about it the short and simple part is that a family of Jews, most commonly referred to as the Macabees. Feel free to read more here. (http://www.chabad.org/holidays/chanuk...)

During this time this particular family had fought hard to at last return to the temple. When they entered, they saw it had been desecrated and horrible abominations performed within it. They set to clean and re-sanctify The Holy Temple. When they went to light the sacred golden menorah however, they only had enough oil for one day. The problem was, there is a very specific recipe and process to the making of this particular oil. Not just any oil would do, and the process would take about eight days to complete. Despite this they lit the menorah and began the process, a miracle took place when the one day supply of oil lasted for eight days.

To this day it is a celebration of God’s provision and a festival to celebrate light. Now some of you may ask why I go back to a holiday that is not held on the 25th of December. In fact depending on the year, the eight day long festival might not even be held in December at all. However, if you look at the Bible and see when Jesus was said to be born. Even though we don’t have an exact date leading historians and theologians estimate he was born during Sukkot or commonly referred to as the Feast of Booths, (aka Tabernacles). This would be why there was no room at the Inn since Sukkot is one of the big three leading festivals of the Jews that God requires an offering.
 
The symbolism of Jesus being born on a festival that in essence is prophetically celebrating the time that God will dwell (Tabernacle) with us for all eternity is undeniable, but if you look at this holy day, look at the fact that Jesus Died on Passover, that the Holy Spirit fell on the disciples on Pentecost, is it really that much of a stretch to believe that he fulfilled a few more High Holy days?
 
Rewind the nine months from Tabernacles and interestingly enough you reach Hanukah. Now the celebration is about light is it not? Miraculous provision of light in fact. Well if that’s when the angel spoke to Mary, then that was when the ‘Light of the world’ came into the earth. Since life does start at conception. (And those that are uncertain simply read the Rest of the account in Luke 1-2, Mary right after goes to see Elizabeth and her six month old baby leaps in the womb at Jesus presence).
 
So what is Christmas all about? Gifts? Santa? Trees and Decorations? Yes and no. Those are a part of Christmas, but they are not what it’s ‘all about’. Light is the answer. The truest and most pure of origin, is about light and miracles. That is what Christmas is all about.
 
For those of you who may say, but Hanukah isn’t held on the 25th so its pagan and we shouldn’t celebrate it!’ Actually, depending on the calendar many times Christmas occurs during Hanukah, but this year (2016) is very special as the first night of Hanukah and Christmas coincide. They are held on the exact same day. So don’t let your light be stolen, tearing down what’s wrong with traditions of Christmas, instead let God ‘light you up, and finally figure out what Christmas is all about!’  
 
In the end it’s not what’s wrong with something, but what’s right with it. Don’t throw out the baby with the bathwater. Instead look at those lovely Christmas lights, think back on the miracles that have happened to you and others. That is what this time is about. To celebrate and bring light and miracles right to the front of our eyes. To not forget just how beautiful and wonderful this time of year is. If we will let it.

Origin of a Name

 (Theme: “Secrets” By: One Republic)
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Quote: "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet"
-William Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet
 
“We humans feel so strongly attached to names. Everything must have a name after all, because if it didn’t then... well, what would you call it? As much as I love to write. The thing I struggle with most is, you guessed it. Names. Titles, Characters, Towns, Worlds, everything needs a name and we want the name to be catchy, clever, and most importantly, memorable.
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Writers want an image to come to mind when the name is spoken. Jesus Christ, Mother Teresa, Hitler, Batman, Harry Potter, The Statue of Liberty, The Grand Canyon... You get the idea. As you heard, or more accurately read these names; images of individuals came to mind. Possibly such as; A man hung on a cross, a humble woman serving the poor, a short dictator with a strange mustache, a scary individual with pointy ears, clad in black and fighting crime, a boy with a lightning shaped scar and round glasses, a lady in a toga made of stone holding a torch, or an enormous canyon so immense that it takes your breath away.

No matter what you believe in, names are crucial. If my dad called me ‘Hey you’ instead of my name, I wouldn’t feel too good about myself. I would even doubt that he loved me. In fact, history has proven one of the best ways to break a person’s spirit, is to steal their name. The result was losing their identity. Thus, I endeavor to put a great deal of thought into my names. To be honest though, sometimes a word just pops in my mind and I go with it. That way I can move on.

This blog however, is something I wanted to have a meaningful name for, something that described what I hopped for it to achieve. I wanted to share what I have on my heart, or write what I’m inspired to talk about after hearing a song, or watching a movie. I wanted to be able to express frustrations or give my side of a debate without having to start an argument. Two things helped shape what I wanted to call this blog, the fact that I’m a writer and that I have secrets. Things people don’t know about me and would never guess.

I’m a hyper introvert, not that I can’t be around people, but I don’t like to speak up in social gathering because in all honesty, no one allows it to be quite enough for me to speak. I like to think before speaking, mull over what I’m thinking, make sure I’ve thought things out clearly, and am emotionally ready for any possible disagreement or mentally prepared for further questions, should they want me to expound on the matter. Then by the time I’m ready to speak, people have moved to a new topic. With writing, you get to go back and fix it. The spoken word is not so forgiving. Once the words are spoken, it’s out there and you can’t undo what was said.

An old saying comes to mind “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and to remove all doubt.” — Abraham Lincoln.

So a blog is a perfect place to share what I think and feel without having to hurry and hastily give poorly constructed thoughts. So I kicked around many ideas, a good friend (The one who suggested I start a blog mind you), said to make it catchy and two words if possible. I wish I could say I was all ‘Thank you, great idea!’, but inwardly I’m going ‘Man.. I had a few ideas, but none that short...’

Thus brings me to the song I consider my soul theme. “Secrets” By: OneRepublic. I was captured the first time I heard this song. The pronounced strings, the beautiful voice of the lead singer, but even more than that. The lyrics:

‘I need another story
Something to get off my chest
My life gets kinda boring
Need something that I can confess
Til' all my sleeves are stained red
From all the truth that I've said
Come by it honestly I swear
Thought you saw me wink, no
I've been on the brink, so
Tell me what you want to hear
Something that will light those ears
Sick of all the insincere
I'm gonna give all my secrets away
This time, don't need another perfect lie
Don't care if critics ever jump in line
I'm gonna give all my secrets away’

This is me in a nut shell. If ever there was a song that captured the essence of my private self, this was it. I call it my theme song. Why? If I had to give up every pleasure this world has to offer, but one. The one I would keep would be writing. There is an intense power within writing, a sense of fulfillment and wisdom in the written word. Sharing your heart and soul via ink, paint, crayon or digital text. I don’t even really care if people read the blog. Don’t get me wrong I hope people do, but its more something I have to do than something I want to use to get popular. So with all this in mind I finally limited my ideas to a few names that I kicked around, such as; “A Writers Secrets”, “Working Secrets”, “Secret Workings”, “A Life’s Journey”, “Simple Secrets”, “Written Secrets” and lastly landed on “Secret Writings”.

This will be my place to share secrets. My writings. This won’t be a place for people to debate and argue. I’m simply sharing what I think and feel, years from now I may look back at some blogs and go “Wow, that was pretty off target there.” Don’t get me wrong, I plan to research things as well, depending on the topic and quote my sources, but in a way this is a sort of online diary where anyone who happens across this page will get a little insight into the inner dialog that kicks around inside my brain. Expect honesty, personal experiences, real emotions and most importantly, what I believe. Our beliefs are the filters we see life through. How else could two people at the same job doing the same thing have the opposite opinion “I hate my job...” and “I love my job!”? Our beliefs are the invisible baggage (Bad-weighs you down) and luggage (Good-necessities for the journey), we bring into every area of our life.  

Now that you know the origin of the name, I hope your interest is piqued enough to want to read more and if you would like to suggest a topic, simply comment or email me at guardianwolfkim@icloud.com and I just may do it!

Peace and Blessings!
Kimberly Brown
GuardianWolfKim