Tag Archives: God

The Hardest Story I Ever Had To Tell

apts-b1-cv4God is good, all the time. But He’s not always nice!

Nice gives us our happy times. However, most of us also need access to the ugly, mean, and painful stuff of life in order to discover and realize the very best of ourselves. At least, I did!

In 1971 my little girl self, stepped off the plane, and into the new world of Canada. Since then, I have been fighting against an emergence of cold, mean and painful forces at home, in the classroom and in the office. It was a battle I thought I could win, until I realized. I was fighting me!

At the age of 46, I had a massive stroke. The doctors said they could find no cause!

My life was stopped, like a swatted mosquito, for no reason! I felt as though I was dying without ever having lived, without giving the world the very best of me……..

Click here to read the entire short introduction. Your feedback is always appreciated.

Who are you?

People will be miserable, they will be selfish,  and they will be arrogant. Yet, if we look closely, we will see that they are telling us who we are.

This morning I went with my mother to the Lab to get my regular blood work done. We met a friendly Guyanese lady who talked who am Iincessantly about her dislike for Sri Lankans. She jokingly gave examples of those she experienced, who she described as  miserable and always fighting among each other. My mother and I noticed her prejudice. Yet, immediately afterwards my mother went to the super market and came back complaining about the selfishness of Chinese shoppers. A Chinese lady, she said, was grabbing up all the discounted Papayas. I am no different, for I have had to battle my own negative stereotypes against what I called ‘arrogant’ African-Americans.

Each time we discriminate against others, we are saying a lot about who we are, and our perceived need to lift ourselves up from beneath others. However, by loving and forgiving others, we can more easily love and forgive ourselves. By seeing their beauty, we can see our own beauty.

The whole world changes when we can see ourselves as more than or above no one, as less than or beneath no one. The whole world changes when we can see ourselves as perfectly imperfect, like everyone.

Seeing Our Slip-Ups As Instruments of God

This morning I had the privilege of doing the welcome for my church, attended by a very diverse congregation. I was praising God for everything, starting with a beautiful snowy day. When I came to praising God for Black History Month, the words suddenly disappeared from my mind leaving a big hole. No matter how I tried, I could not retrieve them. Members of the congregation said the words for me. Then I was able to say them for myself, and finish my praising with a couple more slip-ups along the way.

Of course, I beat myself up, even though I know that our life is about accepting how imperfect we are, and seeing that out of that imperfection comes the perfect result. My memory lapse and the interjection of the congregation actually enabled better focus on Black History Month, better than I could have done, had I not forgotten.

Still, I was invisibly worried that my black colleagues would think bad of me for such a mistake. Fortunately, my spirit reminded me that if anyone (including myself) thinks less of me, it may be a great opportunity for them to see their own superficial, judgemental and unforgiving ways. Such a great opportunity does not come, if not revealed by some imperfection.

There is one final and perhaps most critical blessing that I got out of all this. Deep down, I didn’t want to include Black History Month in the welcome. I love my blackness and many would say I am more Afro-centric than the average black Canadian or American. However, I did not think it belonged in the welcome. Why I felt this way is not important. What is important could be the probable attempt of my spirit to stop me from saying anything that was not truly in my heart.

I need to remember all this, in order to have God truly use me.

What about you, do you see the blessings in your slip-ups?

Are your actions setting you up to hit the right target?

aimAre you seriously aiming for what you want? I am not referring to what you say you want, but what your committed actions say you’re targeting!

Before my stroke, I would have said I was aiming to retain the comfort and ease of my well-paying job as a training consultant. Yet it didn’t take a fool to see that my intense dislike and sometimes defiance of my boss, were revealing my true aim, which was trouble!!

Becoming a  People Builder

Today, my chief aim is to be a true people builder. Thus every day, I do something towards my book/course, Me and Napoleon Hill, which reveals various laws, practices and processes forpb logo succeeding by truly aiming at creating a life doing what we love. This is my gift back to the world, for I have experienced it all, through my miraculous healing and intellectual achievements over the last 6 years, as I rose from a near lethal stroke.

With gratitude, I can say that a few results affirm that my words and actions are lining up to manifest my true aim. First, I received authorization from the Napoleon Foundation to share significant excerpts from “The Law of Success in Sixteen Lessons,” which was a resource for Hill’s timeless classic “Think and Grow Rich.”

Second, and the most exiting reason for me, is that the success laws and practices I share, align with the biblical  fruit of the spirit, which states:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5: 22-23).

Third, as of next week, I will begin to share some easy to apply processes from Me and Napoleon Hill, with the intention of building people up as high as they want to go.

For now, I repeat this truth.

Success requires focusing your actions on aiming to go somewhere, to do something.

What do you say you are aiming for?  How do your committed and consistent actions confirm this?

Defeating Demons

Up until last night the title of the book I am writing was Defeating Demons. After all, my stroke was about defeating the demons in my head, which almost killed me. However, after a conversation with my brother I realized that by making the demons in my head the focus of my mind, I give them strength.

My goal is not to focus my energy on fighting and defeating anything. My focus has to be on instilling the laws of success, which allow the good I want for my life, to naturally emerge like a butterfly from a caterpillar.  That is what my book is about.

Which do you thing is better, to defeat bad or to instil good?

Confidence in Our Health and Beauty

ellipticalYesterday I was in the gym working hard on the elliptical machine. Like a Duracell battery, I was full of energy, moving my arms and legs joyously back and forth to the positive reggae music, which was piping through my ear phones.

A guy, who I have not seen for a long time, appeared in front of my machine. With a bright and friendly smile, he said:

I haven’t seen you for a while. You must be coming at a different time. Are you completely better now?

It was a question, but he spoke as though there could be nothing but an affirmative answer. He wanted to know if my limp, and all signs of my disability, that he had seen slowly improve for several years, had finally, or almost completely, disappeared. The question, which I get quite often, triggered my uptight self, and made want to say to him:

I was well the last time you saw me and I am still well. My physical disability remains, and it may or may not go away. Yet I am in as great emotional and physical health as I could ever ask for, able-bodied or not.

My cheeky self wanted to say that, but instead my more God-centred self just smiled as I nodded my head cautiously, to indicate there was some progress, and I was happy. He lingered a minute to chit chat; then off he went , jogging away as happy as a lark.

Why did I choose to respond the way I did?

The guy meant only to be friendly, and bombarding him with my hang-ups would have been a certain buzz-killer. I am the main person that needs to know and be happy with how well I am in the moment; for it is this knowing that pulls people to me and projects a vision of wellness. I am not perfectly able-bodied and I am wonderfully well!

No Courage Needed at Camp on the Rock

cotr2This past week I was at Camp on the Rock, located at Camp Kwasind in Muskoka. I lived in the bushes with some 100 people, most of them children and youth, with a few adults over 35!

Throughout the week, adult after adult commended me on being courageous. Something special was surely happening to me, but in my head, it had nothing to do with courage; for in that place, I was a bush woman, fueled by divine energy, fearless in my country roots!

I limped joyously around the camp, up and down sometimes steep stairs and across the beautifully rugged camp grounds. I raced cane-free to meetings, to camp fire, to worship, to meals, to the beach, and to just about every corner of the camp to chase after the bustling kids assigned to my cabin. Like any able-bodied person, I tired a little, I dragged my feet sometimes, stumbled once or twice, and even staggered drunkenly when I felt lazy and intoxicated from the heat.

A girl from my cabin group, who my co-cabin leader Lizzie (Mighty Leader) and I named Joyful, got me right! She watched me grab one end of the bench we just sat on for lunch, as Mighty Leader grabbed the other end; and together we placed the bench upside down and onto the table. With her curious joy and childish sincerity, Joyful said “You’re strong!” She was right.

I felt strength, but it wasn’t my strength. It was strength wrapped in the love of another much, much, greater than me! That love was in the eyes, arms and heart of Rowena (Arouser of Greatness). She compelled me into the lake, to attempt swimming for the first time since my stroke 6 years ago. When she held on to me, I felt so strong and I could swim!When she let go of me, and my feet could not kick to hold my body up, I felt myself going down beneath the water. Courage could not save me, only the loving arms of Arouser of Greatness; she reminded me that the water had no power over me!

Later, strength again took hold of me as I placed my bottom on the dock, dropped my legs into a canoe, and eased myself into the front, with Joyful sitting behind me and Curt (Extraordinary Leader of Leaders) at the rear.   Extraordinary Leader of Leaders skilfully guided the canoe, which carried us calmly across deep waters to the beautiful little island.

A stranger held out her hand, so I could lift myself out of the canoe and step up onto the dock. I then took the hand of Beautiful (the name Mighty Leader and I gave to another of our campers). Beautiful gave me the additional strength I needed to climb to the peak of the Island. And when it was time to climb back down to the dock, Sarah (Guider of Spirit) reached her hands behind her, so I could hold-on, add my strength to hers, and follow her sure-foot, down the steep path to the dock.

There was no need or place for courage at Immanuel Baptist Church’s Camp on the Rock 2013. It gave divine strength to all it touched, and filled us with overwhelming joy and love.

Laugh and Love Like Crazy Kids

Sschool's outchool’s out. Today instead of one child driving me crazy, I have four attacking me. These awesome rascals  fill me with nonsensical laughter; the kind of laughter that keeps me healing.

In a couple of days I am going on a trip that will exercise my laugh, love and tolerance muscles big time!  No technology allowed! So I won’t be posting a blog again until July 10 or 11. I am off to serve on a youth ministry team at a camp filled with 50 some children and teens. Ahhhhhh! Just kidding.  I am excited to see how God reveals himself in those kids, and even in  me!

I hope you find time to laugh and love like crazy this summer.

When Spirit Spoke

I am writing a series of ebook about how my stroke made me nothing, forced me to be something, and showed me how to change my fortune. I would like to share the trailer from my first ebook, ‘God Talking Out Loud’. I would love to get your feedback.

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God  Talking Out Loud

I was sitting in a wheelchair in the doorway of my hospital room. It could have been sunny, cloudy, or maybe even raining. I don’t remember. All I could think about was the horrible thing God had done to me!

It was the end of May, one month since my stroke. I was physically shattered and mentally crushed. Many people still couldn’t understand me, as my throat muscles for speaking were severely damaged.  I could barely stand-up, much less walk. My right hand was paralyzed. I was completely unable to take care of myself.

‘Why did this happen to me,’ I thought. I was feeling like God tossed me away, and wiped me out, like a worthless penny.

“Who am I?” I spoke out loud, asking the question over and over again.  I knew I was not the healthy, can-do anything, bullet-proof woman, I had pretended to be.

Like the voice that spoke to Moses out of the burning bush, I heard “you are love!” The voice was neither man nor woman. It could only be heard by me; yet it was as real as the air I was breathing.

Perhaps it was the voice of God, or something in or around me that was in touch with God. I know only that it was pushing love to bust loose in me in some way!

Recognizing that I was in a wheelchair, my frail right leg held up on a foot rest, and my paralyzed right hand lying dead on the wheelchair’s tray, my happiness center right brain took charge. With my left hand, I started turning the left wheel of my chair. At the same time, I lifted my left foot up, and began the best one-foot wheelchair-walk ever!

It was as though I bolted out the room, like a Road Runner. I wheeled myself into the hallway, turned right and went directly into the TV lounge, which was right next to my room.

I parked my wheelchair beside a young lady, barely in her thirties, sitting in a wheelchair, watching TV. Her left foot was in a brace and held up by a foot rest. Though her left arm, rested on a tray, and could move a little, it looked as lifeless as she did.

She wore a hopeless look on her face, as though she too had lost faith in God. Normally I would be scared to approach someone so distraught; but this time I was flying high on love.

Maybe she saw the compassion on my face. I don’t know. All I know is that she responded to me with a warm welcoming smile. We talked like friends, though I cannot remember about what. Nothing really mattered, except for the fact that we understood each other’s pain.

That day I went to one patient after another.  Mostly, I listened with compassion to their story, and shared mine. I reminded them that they were not alone, like the voice reminded me.

Though this was great during the day, when night came, I still needed to know what God really wanted from me. What did He want from love?

A few days later, I was waking up from my sleep, when the burning bush-like voice spoke again.

“Share your story with the world!”

I felt as though I had been given a great blessing. I cried deeply, scrunching up my face, releasing no sound, like people do when they don’t want to share their moment. That day I knew my stroke was my contribution to the world, a story of Love!

My brain was injured, my right hand was paralyzed, my thoughts were confused, and my words were jumbled. I was in the perfect place for listening to Spirit, as it began to reveal the way to manifesting and sharing the love and prosperity that had always been with me, with us all.