Many of us have spent the last couple of days reeling from the NY law that states babies can be aborted up to full term.

Some of us have defended the “gray area.” People have unfriended, spewed hateful language, and altogether ignored their friends over this matter.

The church is not insulated from this insanity.

The views on abortion vary to such a degree within the circles of those who label themselves as “Christian,” that we can hardly tell who stands for what anymore.

My stripper friends are posting about how it is murder and some of my friends from church are saying it’s not such a “big deal.

Anyone else confused? Anyone wonder how we got to this?

For starters, it would help to do a little research on how abortion is linked to eugenics and see it for the evil it really is.

The root of the matter always matters.

Jesus was (and is still) concerned about the state of our hearts above all else.

While we cannot change others’ opinions or even the disgusting origin of systematic abortion, we can examine our own hearts.

Whatever you believe about the matter, why do you believe it?

I had a revelation today as I perused isles of toys and watched my 4 year old marvel at them. She was so excited, joyfully window shopping for almost an hour!

I followed her into every store and let her lead the way, exploring as she went….

Her happiness was as marvelous to me as the toys were to her little toddler self.

I wanted to give her the world.

But I won’t.

Not because I can’t, but because I would damaged her by doing so.

I would be worshipping her and it would escalate to bigger and more expensive toys, clothing, vacations etc. as I coxed out every last drop of happiness I could squeeze from her to make myself happy.

Which brings me to this…

We kill our babies because we worship them.

Our American culture informs us (even in the church), that babies are meant to bring us joy. If they don’t they become useless, inconvenient and disposable.

If they aren’t likely to live up to our expectations, if we hypothesize they will be “defective” in some way, then we may dispose of them. Provided we fill out the proper paperwork, of course.

After all, an idol is only as good as its ability to serve us. And idols, every idol, is worshiped for what can be gotten from it, not given to it.

You see, baby worshippers. You are the problem too; not just the “baby killers.”

“We kill our babies because we worship them.”

I have heard it said that whatever we put before God we will lose. Maybe that explains why we are losing so many babies?

It’s time to check our priorities. If you’re putting more effort into keeping your kids happy than upholding the sanctity of life, you’re dead wrong.

Well, maybe not dead but you are wrong.

The babies have the dead part taken care of for you. But not to worry, because the children you already have are being worshipped sufficiently.

Besides, who has time for saving babies when you’ve got soccer practice at five and a lavish birthday party to plan?

Grieving for our ignorance…

Your sister,



Now that the Devil’s Day Debate has simmered down, I thought I might stir the pot a little with some truth.

(How else can I excuse munching on handfuls of my kids’ candy? I need the sugars for brainpower to blog, of course!)

Yep. We “celebrated.” Let me tell you why:

1) Celebrating Halloween won’t send you to hell any more than celebrating Christmas will get you to heaven.

I figured I would go straight for the throat on this one. All the religious fanatics out there who think that someone isn’t saved just because they don’t do things exactly like you can pretty much stuff it.

This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of in my life and I’m not giving it any more space on this blog. Sorry not sorry.

2) The devil doesn’t get a day. They’re all God’s days.

If you really believe that Jesus is sovereign in this world, then this language wouldn’t even be in your vocabulary.

I understand that there are people who celebrate Halloween as part of an unholy religion. Unfortunately for you, those people consider this day to be very holy.

It’s gonna be quite difficult for you to witness to people if you keep demonizing them once a year (they’re not all devil worshippers) while you attack your Christian brothers and sisters. I’m pretty sure unbelievers are not gonna come to you when they have problems and let you pray for them.

Stop saying this nonsense and stop damaging your witness.

3) It’s a “meat to idols” issue.

I don’t broadcast our family’s participation. It’s not the world’s business. I don’t hide it either because that’s just stupid. But since I’m open on social media and minister to so many people it’s bound to come up.

I used to be too concerned about what everyone thought; not because I wanted to please but because I take my position as a teacher and leader very seriously. The reality is I would be doing you all a disservice NOT to discuss the issue.

If you are somewhat religious you already know what I’m talking about with meat to idols. Go read it again. If you’re new to walking with Jesus, it’s a great passage to digest while navigating this new life you’ve found.

It’s gonna be quite difficult for you to witness to people if you keep demonizing them

The point is that we all have different levels of faith and God has called us two different things at different times in our lives.

Sometimes this means participating or abstaining in activities that make us look more or less set apart from the world. Trust Him to lead you through these times and for goodness sake…

For God’s sake,

Stop being so hateful toward your fellow man! Your pride is showing when you do this and it is far more hideous than any Halloween mask.

Excuse me while I polish off this candy bar and thank the Lord for it.

Your sister,


(Note: because I acknowledge that there is an unholy aspect to this holiday, my family abstains from all things that socialize realistic occult activity and I educate my children on the history of Halloween. This is not only in October, but a way of life for us. Spiritual warfare is real and certain behaviors are gateways for attack.)

When I was a child I lived in Fairfax county in Virginia where there were so many different cultures I never had the opportunity to see myself, or anyone else, as different.

We were all different and that gave us a sameness.

As I aged, I began having experiences with people who did not think like me and had no problem being vocal about it.

Visiting family in West Virginia one year, I experienced my first drive-in theater. It was wonderful. However, my enjoyment came to a screeching halt when I heard a young white boy use the N-word. I told him, very directly, not to say that around me. He conceded. The young black man he was speaking about could not have said what I said, how I said it, and gotten the same result.

I suppose this is what white privilege looks like.

In my young adulthood I attended a party… partied way too hard… and became pregnant by a young black man I had just met. I was barely 19 and already had one son. The young man who impregnated me was in school and leaving shortly thereafter. Abortion seemed like the perfect solution to an already frightening situation.

My friend who hosted the party drove me to an abortion clinic.

Later I discovered that she had logged into my AOL messenger (for those of you who know what that is) and had been propositioning men for sex, pretending to be me.

One of the messages this “friend” sent out invited one man to “do anything” he desired to me because “I could just have an abortion. I got pregnant before and I killed the baby because it was black .” This is what racism looks like.

I was heartbroken over my decision already. She twisted the knife. I quickly realized that

1) this young lady was not my friend


2) she was closet racist

I had never seen evidence in all the years I had known her. Our mothers were friends for some time and I had never known her mother to speak that way either.

Racism is often quite hidden. But only for those who are not people of color.

Whether we want to address it or not, this issue still causes division within the church.

A fellow minister and friend of mine is a pastor in a local county nearby. He just recently informed me of the “sister churches” that became divided into seperate churches, one black one white, during the Civil War and have never reunited. His church is one of many that has been touched by the depravity of racism.

“The church needs to be a light to the world and we cannot do that when we hold darkness in our hearts.”

He and I discussed ideas for bringing reconciliation between the churches. My friend has a long road ahead of him if he chooses to embark upon this task. But all of us are responsible to address this within the church and outside of the church walls, in our communities.

I grew up in a home that had many issues I identified with stereotypes of black communities in America. Most of my friends were black as a result, though I lived among many cultures. I assumed they all had broken homes, parents with addiction, and borderline or actual poverty.

Unbeknownst to me, I had used my limited exposure to part of the black community (my friends who did have these issues) to define an entire race of people.

In high school I joined the Awareness of Black Culture club. I quickly realized that my perspective had been more informed by society’s view of black Americans than by their culture and who they really are.

I lived among, went to church with, partied with, and went to school with the black community and STILL I was misinformed about their culture, issues, and as a result their value.

No let me be very direct in saying that I did not value them less than myself or anyone else. I had simply failed to recognize the contributions that they have made and continue to make to this country and also the world at large.

The one thing that I was blessed not to miss out on was the black community’s contribution to the church.

It was in a very small, historical predominantly black Baptist church where I first experienced the Holy Spirit. I witnessed and participated in worship that was truly free. I saw grown women dancing as freely as this child out of pure joy in the Lord. I heard honest testimonies of broken people that had been redeemed by the Lord.

There has always been a transparency in the black community, weather in the world or in the church, which I have greatly admired. I took it upon myself to be just like this. Always real. Sometimes real to a fault, but honest nevertheless.

I want to call you all into action on this as well.

Let us not leave the dialogue about race in yesterday just because today is not a holiday that draws attention to the power and value of the black community.

I want each of you to take an honest inventory of your own heart in relation to how you perceive people of color.

I want you to write it down.

I want you to pray over it.

You can tear it up when you’re done, or burn it… Just do it for goodness sake!

Write it all out and turn it over to the Lord so that we can truly begin moving beyond hate, stereotype, and the racist expression of these things.

The church needs to be a light to the world and we cannot do that when we hold darkness in our hearts.

If somebody like me who is so engaged in the black community could STILL have misunderstandings,then surely all of you can take a few minutes to evaluate your own thoughts on the matter.

Won’t you?

I thank you for joining me in this effort and I pray that God reveals to you places that need to be healed and forgiven if and where they exist.

It is imperative that our brothers and sisters of color know that they are not alone in this fight and that we are willing to wage war, even on our own flesh, to better unite with them. We are to bear one another’s burdens and when we refuse to, in the light of truth, we are in sin for not doing so.

I love you all and pray you have a blessed day that is full of revelation, hope, and restoration.

Your sister,


If you’re at the point in life where you have more athletic clothing than night-on-the-town attire (or the male equivalent: an SUV in lieu of your souped-up, kit enhanced Honda), then you likely remember themovie with a cute, little fairy named “Krista” who saved the last Rainforest.

This adorable, yet fierce, young fairy spends most of the movie moseying about an enchanted-like forest as a tour guide to her shrunken protégée, Zak the tree-killer.

Zak grows the same appreciation for the forest that we do as the movie progresses. The producers did a fabulous job of showing the natural wonders of the Rainforest while adding just the right touch of magic.

They made us fall in love with that forest!

… only to see it burning to the ground at the hands of Zak’s evil, tree-chopping bosses.

The pinnacle of drama came about when Hexxus (the super-demon trapped in a large tree) was released due to poor tree marking. Hexxus set about destroying what was left of the rainforest, including the fairies who were looking after it.

Krista held the only hope for survival.

As a child, I sat holding back tears as I watched little heroine fairy throw herself into Hexxus’s mouth, carrying only a “single, tiny seed” as her weapon. My sadness rapidly gave way to joy as the branches of a new, more glorious tree began to grow from within the very thing that was supposed to end it all.

Whipping sounds still ring in my ears as I recall the roots lashing out and planting into the ground. A massive trunk emerged, encasing Hexxus and closing him in until nothing was left but his eyes and then…

POOF! Nothing.

The last of Him went up in a puff of smoke.

The new tree began to produce limbs. Magnificent buds popped up and opened all accompanied by lush green leaves. It was breathtaking! When I thought all of the flowers had bloomed, one more opened… and in it was Krista!

Forest saved. Bad guy vanquished. Happily-ever-after was possible again!

Fast forward 25 years…

I’m listening to Pandora and a beautiful song comes on. Just instruments. I smile. Out loud I say to myself, “why does this make me so happy?!”

Turns out it was the song that played during the scene tree grew at the end of Ferngully! It’s incredible how our brains retain such associations! (Though sometimes not so much)

Anyhow, I immediately started wondering why the movie touched me in such a deep and memorable way.

The answer is truth.

Anytime a story touches our heart it is because there is a divine and eternal truth within that story, whether we recognize it or not.

Somewhere deep within, I needed to believe that the most horrible part of me was able to be redeemed. I was like that tree which held Hexxus. No one wanted to touch it, not even to chop it down for fear of releasing the darkness. I was untouchable and evil

Until Jesus showed me grace and gave me faith.

I sought the Lord and found Him. I realized the gravity of what He had done for me. I was given a gift of faith to believe, with all of my being, that He had sacrificed Himself. He abandoned Himself, by choice, to the darkness of this world. He was believed by many to have met death once and for all as He hung lifeless on a cross.

The wait of three days was long enough for hope to fade as He lie in a tomb. (It can feel as though you are in that tomb yourself when you are without faith.) A Savior lost to the darkness while trying to redeem me from the very thing nobody else wanted to touch.

My sin. That ugly word we despise.

Even I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it. But the day that I did, was the day I realized how desperately I need a savior and how beautiful He truly is.

Confessing my destitution primed the way for the gift of faith God had wanted to give me all along.

Like an eight-year-old child watching a happily-ever-after ending, I sat crying with an overwhelming joy that was etched so deep within my heart that nothing could ever remove it… and everything would remind me of it;

Of Him. My Jesus!

He gave everything in exchange for my nothingness just so He could be with me and heal this world through me.

I have been given a gift that my finite hands cannot hold, so I must share it. If you don’t have a personal relationship with Jesus, I invite you to explore who He is through scripture.

You are not alone on this journey.

Reach out. Shoot me an email. I will take personal responsibility for helping answer your questions and leading you deeper in faith. Of course, I’ll be praying for you along the way as well.

Give it a shot. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. May your eyes be opened to Truth wherever it can be found, even in the simple things like childhood movies. God will be a light to your path as you seek Him earnestly.

I hope to hear from you. Until then, I love you all dearly.

Your sister,


APTOPIX Manhattan Shooting
Bicycles and debris lay on a bike path after a motorist drove onto the path near the World Trade Center memorial, striking and killing several people Tuesday, Oct. 31, 2017. (AP Photo/Craig Ruttle)


The devil has peeked his cowardly head out of hiding once again to remind us that he is still here.

As is common lately, he used a desperate, fear-filled man who he knew would scream the battle cry of Islamic extremists as he ran from the scene of dead and injured bodies. He picked a man who was already sick: an easy target.

He chose the man he wanted to be his scapegoat. A religion that he wants to be the target of our warfare instead of him.

Its time we stop letting the real enemy hide behind the hurting people of this world as we blame them. It’s time we wage war against the spiritual forces instead of each other.

Are you angry that people are dead, and so close on the heels of the last tragedy in Vegas? Good. Me too. But that anger, if it is truly righteous, belongs to the Lord and vengeance is His alone. So harness up all that adrenaline… you’re going to need it as a prayer warrior.

Oh, you’re not a prayer warrior? That’s fine. Now is a good time to become one. You don’t even need to be great at it! Just start praying because, Lord knows, we need more Christians who are willing to do battle this way. Who are willing to go the extra mile and pray for their enemies.

But it’s going to take some grit.

This life of grace is a marathon. Change that lasts does not come quickly, and our God will not build something that is temporary. His is the ONLY kingdom that is everlasting. The only thing we can hang our hopes on and commit our lives to that will surely have impact for generations to come.

Now grab your Bible, read again about that forgiveness you received, and hit your knees to pray for that man who killed people today. Pray for his family. Pray for Jesus to reveal Himself in all this and to be glorified. Pray for those Muslims you want to blame it on.

Pray, cry, and be filled with hope.

We do not grieve like others. Let Christians be known today for that grace which we have been given in such abundance. For that “Amazing Grace” we sing of.

May the world find peace at the foot of the cross as we lead them to it… in action… on our knees. This peace and grace of Christ is the only thing that will heal our nation and our world.

I am praying with you.

Your Sister,