Tag Archives: Awaken Me

Christian Living, Friendship

My Housekeeper

I love my housekeeper.

Yesterday I received a Facebook post from my good friend Glory. It was simple and easy to read, but so powerful. It simply said, “Become friends with people who aren’t your age. Hang out with people whose first language isn’t the same as yours. Get to know someone who doesn’t come from your social class. This is how you see the world. This is how you grow.” I do not know the source of this statement, but knowing my friend who posted it, I feel sure she meant that this is how you grow as a Christian.

Glory's post FB 2

As an USA expat living in Lagos, Nigeria, I have now seen poverty, unbelievable health problems, corruption, and the tears of people reaching out to God for help. But, I have also seen the calm sweet spirit of those who love Jesus and want to be obedient to Him no matter what life has brought them.

In Nigeria, most expats have housekeepers, cooks, and drivers. I am no exception. Yesterday, I told my housekeeper to show up, but that she was not going to clean for me, because I wanted to take her out for a birthday lunch. I decided to take her to a simple place next to our flat where we could walk to and not spend too much time.

I was ready to go. Mary (not her real name) showed up in a nice, lovely suit for the occasion. I was just wearing my regular old jeans that I had worn the past two days. I was gently jolted into reminding myself that this lunch was a very special occasion for her. We arrived at the restaurant. Remember, it is Nigeria. We had to proceed through a scanner and have our purses checked before being allowed entrance. The table in the main restaurant was covered with a bright white tablecloth adorned with a lovely folded cloth napkin. I ordered a steak and French fries. She ordered a hamburger and French fries. She ate her French fries with a fork. We laughed. I told her that in America, we eat our French fries with our fingers. I made her order a dessert since it was her birthday. She ordered an apple pie to go. She wanted to share her special occasion by bringing something home to her husband and son. Throughout the meal, we shared our lives. She told me about her tribal wedding and her white wedding. She asked me if I drove a car. She was shocked that someone from the USA didn’t have a driver to drive them everywhere. She doesn’t drive. You see, there is no opportunity here for her to ever own a car. She takes multiple buses to get home after cleaning my flat – sometimes taking up to three hours to get home.

table set

One day I asked her what she really wanted if I could bring her one thing back from the U.S. Her answer wasn’t fancy clothes, toys for her son, or needed medicine. She wanted a new watch. Hers wasn’t keeping time correctly, so she wanted a new watch, so she wouldn’t be late to work.

The lunch ended. We walked back to my flat. She left. I sat down and I thanked God for an opportunity to share with someone who was not my age, someone I had to ask to repeat what she said when she jumped into her tribal dialect, and someone who definitely was not from my social class.

Then, later that night, when I read the post from my friend, I could totally relate to it, because I had just experienced it and lived it this very same day.

While my housekeeper thanked me for my kindness towards her, I thanked God for the blessing I had just received.

Bible Verses:

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” Colossians 3:12

“I will make them and the places around my hill a blessing; and I will cause the shower to come down in its season; there shall be showers of blessing.” Ezekiel 34:26

Six hours after I posted this blog, I received a message from Mary that I want to share. It is written exactly as she wrote it.

“Gudeven mum. I am very happy and appreciated for what u did for me .may almighty God reward u and bless ur family in jesus amen.I love u mum .thanks Mary.”

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Bible Gateway Blogger Grid (BG²) is an international network of independent bloggers who meaningfully blog—and who are serious—about matters relating to the Bible. Follow the members on Twitter using our BG² List.

www.PattiGreene.com

Guest Bloggers, Life Issues

Depression by Glory C. Odemene / Dedicated to Robin McLaurin Williams

Have you ever met someone and you instantly knew you liked that person. You just clicked! That happened to me not long ago – I met Glory and we instantly bonded. We have a lot in common, but we also knew we had a lot of differences. But, what’s this got to do with depression? Let’s see!
As I was putting the final touches on my recently released devotional book, God, It’s Me: 181 Days for Young Adults to Become Passionate About Prayer and Bible Study, I prepared myself to ask Glory if I could use some of her poetry excerpts in my own book. I made up a folder showing her exactly how her poetry would be used in the book along with her excerpts that I matched to my already chosen pictures. You know, after 18 years of being a librarian, I felt like I knew how possessive writers/authors/poets could be about their work, so I was understandably nervous when I asked her that one Sunday morning at church at the Four Points Sheraton Hotel in Lagos, Nigeria. While I was anticipating a possible “No” or a “Let me think about it,” I remember Glory’s big, brown eyes opening as wide as a raccoon. She was amazed that I was even asking her at all. She immediately said, “YES!” I was thrilled.
You see, Glory is the type of person who writes for the Lord. She gives him the credit and all the “glory.” She even encourages people to share her God-inspired poems.
It is in this spirit, I am sharing Glory’s most recent poem titled Depression. It is written for all who have or will ever encounter depression in their lives. As you read this poem you will see that the catalyst for this poem was the recent passing away of the well-loved comedian Robin Williams.
—————————————————-
Depression
by Glory C. Odemene
Dedicated to Robin McLaurin Williams
Out there, it’s labeled bane of geniuses, cross of the consummate
Price for being bequeathed with exceptional talents: folks jump
As judges on the reckless wagon driven by this accomplished
Fellow who should know enough to be a role model but that also
Is an affliction; perpetual pressure to always smile, act nice and right
But hello this is reality not Broadway! Yet he contends crushing guilt
In lonesome cell whose innards scream, “Turkey!” at a dignitary.
Drained of joys for stellar feats, the global champion is whipped
A wimp in his own universe and unknown to the all-knowing world
The remote control is beyond his reach: he can’t predict how
His channels switch; no idea when dark days descend or duration
Of his sentence in that gloomy jail where struggle and strive all he
May, it seems he never can wear out that awful, unwanted skin.
Triggers range from tragedies to nothing, the sun suddenly goes south
In the middle of his day and like rag, the jewel is tossed into a hole.
He may appear surrounded and smiling but within he’s achingly alone
Flailing like a drowning man whose gasps show up as deviations on
The chart of trendy expectations. He grapples whatever his hands
Can find, seeking a reason, a means, to hope or not. A kind word
Could be the lifeline that keeps his head above, respiring when he
Would have been expiring, if aid’s arrival proves timely.
A bland-cold stare, mere rebuff that ignores his silent cries
Of desperation are sharp enough to cut that rope of hope.
It is not about privileges, positions, and possessions
It is a dreadful suit he wears all his life. Though glamor shields it
He yet feels it in those places where no other can see or tell.
Desperate for escape, he courts drugs, marries alcohol
Even changing locations appeal but fleeting thrills wane too soon
And he wakes to the revulsion of complicated addictions.
Experts and the ignorant diagnose and prescribe, tagging it
With tongue twisting labels that promise him no ease so alone
He either silently battles the monsters until end pays him a visit
Or he goes the way of bizarre and the world is shocked, more
By its perennial indifference than the fruits of his queerness.
The least to do today is exit the judges’ hub, extend kindness
To all you meet: you don’t know the monsters they are battling:
Just one word, one move, can make that difference between life
And death: everyone you meet is in warfare, your vote counts.
© Glory C. Odemene, 2014
(Dedicated to Robin McLaurin Williams)
Glory’s Comments:
I remember growing up. I used to have dark days. It carried labels like, “Melancholy,” “Depression,” among others. It is considered the blight of the talented and a norm. You didn’t have much choice but to live with it. And I did for many years until the LORD broke through and delivered me. Sometimes, it just happens and down you sink. At others, it may be just a look you are not comfortable with, an unkind comment, or even being ignored, that triggers it. You have no control over when it descends and how long it lasts. Until you wake up one day and the sun is up, and following that lead, you crawl out to discover that all around is cheery once again.
Recently, I went through tragedies and instead of the typical accusers that make you feel wretched despite your achievements or tend to strangle you with guilt for errors, I was invaded and besieged by fears. They showed up in everything, every time, and everywhere I turned. I looked like I do every day, smiled as usual but deep down were cries no ears could hear. My world was crumbling but to everyone else, I was the same. God helped me walk through without hitting that dreaded bottom. It has been 14 years now and counting and I have never set my foot in that pit of a prison.
We are often so consumed by our personal pursuits that we become inured to the travails of those around us. Just like love and encouragement have helped many conquer their battles, our indifference and insensitivity can complicate matters for the weak. If only we can learn to stop and think again before we shoot. Imagine how much difference that will make in a world where the broken are trampled on every day? From experience, I know of only one cure that delivers without side effects, no relapse, and not at bank-breaking cost: Jesus: And whoever the Son sets free, is free indeed.
Glory!
Please feel free to forward/share this blog with your friends and family. And, we would love you to comment!
To read more of Glory’s poetry excerpts, check out . . . http://amzn.to/1o4cm8x
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Bible Gateway Blogger Grid (BG²) is an international network of independent bloggers who meaningfully blog—and who are serious—about matters relating to the Bible. Follow the members on Twitter using our BG² List.

www.PattiGreene.com

Life Issues

A Bitter-Sweet Moment

When I drove up to the house, I saw “the package” on the doorstep. I knew it was the “long-awaited” Fed-Ex package from my publisher CrossBooks. After months and months of working so hard on my first book ‘Awaken Me: A Devotional Prayer Journal’ I just wanted to spend time treasuring and savoring the first glance through my first published book. So, I quickly took the groceries out of the car, and put them on the counter. The last thing I was expecting was a bitter-sweet moment!

So with a skip in my step, I turned the corner to go to the front door to get my “treasured” package. It was then I encountered a horrific scene – a scene so horrific that instantly I felt a big ‘ol Texas pit right in the middle of my abdomen and I found myself immediately doubled over in pain.

In the hallway, I found that my knick-knack curio shelf had fallen down. And there, shattered in the hallway, was my grandmother’s entire shoe collection, my especially treasured cup and saucer sets given to me by Aunt Mary, and the only treasured gift recently given to me when my Aunt Terry passed away. Along with all those memories were the shoe collection my husband, parents, and children, had given me over the years – cute shoes – gifts I have loved.

Items on this shelf had to be special to make the cut to the shelf. Lovely heirlooms –ALL SHATTERED. I wanted to cry. But, between being shocked and not feeling well, I just found the closest couch and sat down for a few minutes still holding my abdomen.

As I gained composure, I tip-toed over the sacred mess and I opened the door to get the Fed Ex package. The mature, sensible thought that ran briefly through my mind was “out with the old, and in with the new” – basically, the “things happen mentality!”

I stumbled back to the old gray couch with my box in hand. I wasn’t feeling the way I thought I would be when I visualized this moment. It wasn’t even close. After all the hard work on the book, I anticipated a jittery, glow from above, Holy Spirit type moment. Instead, I experienced a dull, flat sensation along with only a slight sliver of anticipation.

When I opened the package, the cover was gorgeous. A smile crossed my face. I browsed though the book, and then decided to take some photos and do a little writing about the conflicting life scenario I just encountered.

On the one hand, I am experiencing sadness, but then on the other hand, I am experiencing happiness. Honestly though – right now I don’t think I have the strength to clean up and sift through the memory mess. Maybe one or two or even three memories will make the cut as to remaining a heirloom. I hope so.

I think I am in the midst of what people call a “bittersweet” moment! I am not sure I have had such a vivid, contrasting dichotomy packed in such a short period of time before.

I don’t have a bucket list. But, if I did, I would be crossing off “bittersweet moment” now. But, since no such list exists, I think I should go and put my groceries away, take a nap, and sort through the rubble later.

Who knows maybe GOD just wrote my first blog. He is good, isn’t He?

September 14th, 2014

For almost a year and a half, I kept all my broken pieces in a nice, little gift bag. I put the bag on the same bookshelf that I keep my most treasured stack of Shutterfly memory albums. But, one day, I was browsing my neighborhood’s newly created site that post things for sale, and low and behold I saw an ad that intrigued me.

A lady named “Mary” was offering to make designer crosses for people.

I promptly contacted Mary to see if she had ever made crosses using china pieces. She hadn’t, but she said she would try. And try she did. She worked meticulously creating a cross to preserve my family memories. I really had no idea what to expect. And, Mary admitted that she was a little nervous and worried that  I might not like what she had done.

But yesterday, I was working at a craft fair in Cy-Fair where she brought me a box with my cross in it. Mary had wrapped the cross in some beautiful purplish-violet tissue paper. As I contemplated pushing the tissue paper aside, I pre-decided to act excited no matter what because I did not want to hurt Mary’s feelings. I was very apprehensive but hopeful.

But, WOW! As soon as I saw Mary’s creation, I loved it. I started pointing out things, i.e. “This was my Aunt Mary’s dish.” “This was my grandmother Jess’ shoe. It just brought back so many fond memories of people that the Lord had placed in my life over the years.

While I am only talking about broken china and glass memory pieces, sometimes our lives take an unexpected turn, i.e. a tragic event occurs, our health deteriorates, or our family breaks up. When these things happen, it is time to reflect and discern what to do next. It may mean “sitting on a shelf” for a while; it may mean actively rearranging your spiritual life; or it may mean deciding to do the next best thing.

Mary took my broken memories and eventually turned them into a beautiful mosaic cross. God will take the shattered and sharp pieces of our lives and mold them and us into a beautiful creation if we allow Him to. It may take time, but don’t throw away or despise your life experiences. Let God take whatever they are and allow Him to mold you through those experiences into the person He wants you to be.

Now, I can not only look back and be grateful, but I can also  look forward and trust that the next time I feel broken and shattered, like my knick-knack pieces, I can trust that the Lord sees the big picture and that in His time, those pieces can be molded together to make something beautiful for His purpose.

Thanks Mary for letting God use you to bless me!

If you have any jewelry or cross needs, let Mary know. She is awesome. You can contact her below or see some of her wares at her Etsy Store DEJAVU143!

The LORD gave another message to Jeremiah. He said, “Go down to the potter’s shop, and I will speak to you there.” So I did as he told me and found the potter working at his wheel. But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over. Then the LORD gave me this message: “O Israel, can I not do to you as this potter has done to his clay? As the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand.
Jeremiah 18:1-6 (New Living Translation)

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Bible Gateway Blogger Grid (BG²) is an international network of independent bloggers who meaningfully blog—and who are serious—about matters relating to the Bible. Follow the members on Twitter using our BG² List.

www.PattiGreene.com

Friendship, Medical

My Friend Tamara: Life, God, Cancer, and Death

Tamara, my good friend passed away this month from cancer. She was only 40 years old. Thirteen months earlier she had been diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer that had metastasized to her brain, bones, liver, and stomach. She fought a valiant fight to survive. She did not want to leave her 4 children. I was honored to be asked to speak at her funeral service. I want to share my thoughts on my friend who passed away way before her time. The following are the words I spoke at her funeral service. We all know someone who either has or had cancer; thus, this disease affects us all. Please, let me take this opportunity to encourage every women to have their annual mammogram.
The name of the church and the family names have been changed for privacy sake.

Thank you all for coming to Tamara’s service. My name is Patricia, and Tamara and I were very good friends.­­­­­ Today, I have two “notes” to share with you – one from me and then one from my husband Joe. But, first, I will like to share my remembrances of a lovely lady.

Tamara was a praying woman. She shared with me about how scared she was when she moved to Houston from Pennsylvania. But, she said that her parents always told her to PRAY, PRAY, PRAY. She wasn’t going to church, but her mom said, “Tamara, you were raised in church – you need to take the children to church.” Her mom gave her the idea to go to the closest church. That was this church – Fruits Baptist Church. She told me she remembers the pastor saying one day that, “You don’t have to feel lonely!” The next day Tamara she attended a Sunday School Class. She claimed she used to be shy, but she prayed, “God, who can I talk to?” It was in that Sunday School class that she told me once that God provided and it was through that class that she was able to share her life with other people and was where I became friends with Tamara. One day, Tamara  and I were talking and I said, “Do you have anything special I can pray for you?” She just looked at me in unbelief that I asked her that. I didn’t understand. Then, she proceeded to tell me that I asked her those exact same words after a Sunday School class one day, and those words were the catalyst that started our friendship. Tamara became an active participant in our Saturday mornings fellowship luncheon which we had once a month too.

One day, I saw Tamara the happiest I had ever seen her. You see, in May, 2013, we threw her a surprise 39thbirthday party. And believe me SHE WAS TOTALLY SURPRISED. We had balloons, cards, presents, and birthday cake. We sang happy birthday to her. She was so overwhelmed with love that her joy went from laughter to tears. It was at this party that Tamara shared the story of her life with us. The Holy Spirit filled the home and filled all of our hearts. While she was blessed, I think everyone who attended her birthday party left more filled and inspired than even she was.

She shared about how her mom sold tomatoes to help her attend a school where she could learn English. She shared about the beautiful furniture her dad made as a carpenter.  In Tamara’s own words, she said the following about her parents.

“My parents raised all of their children to believe in God. My mum taught us that God is the only one you can depend on in life. My dad taught us how to pray for our food and for our sicknesses. My parents raised us well. In Zambia, where most of the people they knew died of AIDS, we had parents that took good care of us. We grew up in bad neighborhoods, but my parents were strict. They were always asking us if we prayed for this or prayed for that.”

tree

Tamara loved Skyping with her family in Africa. She used to tell me about how her dad was quiet, but sometimes she would share something with them and they would get so excited praising God and dancing around. One time Tamara was at my house and I told her I prayed for her often. She said, “You do?” Then, I proceeded to show her in my prayer journal how she was on almost every day. In a sneaky Tamara kind of way, she tried to read the lines in my “personal journal.” She wanted to know EXACTLY what I was praying for her.

Before she was diagnosed with cancer, I prayed for her peace, for hope, for a place to live, for a job, for a car wreck she was in, for Sunday to get a job, for her children and more. Joe and I’s lives became totally intertwined with the family. One time our son Joseph took Sunday, her oldest son, with him to a park in Houston. They went walking on a path while Joseph taught an exercise class. When the class was over, Joseph couldn’t find Sunday anywhere. After waiting about 2 hours (and having many conversations with Tamara about Sunday’s whereabouts, Joseph called the police. Thursday night must be a low crime night because about 5 patrol cars were out searching for Sunday. Finally, one of the policemen found Sunday around 9 at night (in the dark) in the Bayou near the Beltway. The police picked up Sunday and drove him to Joseph’s car quite a few miles away. Tamara and I laughed so hard many times about how Sunday was able to get such special treatment and how he got to ride in a police car and he didn’t even do anything wrong. That is just one example of the laughter we shared on many occasions.

Tamara’s love for her children was so strong. If I had to sum up what Tamara felt about each child, it would be this:
Victor [5th Grade]: Your mom fell in love with your tender and sweet spirit; keep smiling for her. You are any mom’s dream. Devon [7th Grade] : Your mom was so proud of your musical talent and fun-loving spirit; When you play your music, play well for your mom! And remember Luka, your mom thinks you are the best cleaner in the family.
Faith [11th Grade]: Your mom was so happy to have a little girl; she was thrilled with your dancing ability and your strong desire to do well in school; keep it up for her, and keep dancing.

Sunday [2013 High School Graduate]: What you have done for your family this past year has been unbelievable. You were the man of the house for the three kids; you nurtured them; you made sure they were fed; you saw that all their school papers were signed; you got them to and from school; you took your mom to her doctor appointments; you cared for her. You gave up a year of working and going to school to help your family. You will be blessed. Tamara depended on you and God allowed you the privilege of caring for her through her diagnosis and treatment. You will be blessed. And, your mom DID notice your responsible behavior.

And myself, I have been blessed by knowing Tamara and her family. She taught me how to love unconditionally; she taught me to always be faithful; she taught me so much about the African culture so when I moved to Nigeria 1 ½ years ago, I felt ready to face the challenge. But, one thing she didn’t get around to teaching me (and she kept promising me she would teach me is to how to tie those African scarves around my head) – So, the first thing I will do when I see her in heaven with be to get her to show me that.

In conclusion, I would like to share some of Tamara’s words. In May, 2014, Tamara asked me to write this down for her and to keep it and today I would like to share them with you.

These are her exact words written 5 months before her passing.

“In August, 2013, I was diagnosed with cancer.  God is my help through all this. He has helped me in this sickness. People I don’t even know are standing in prayer for me. The doctors are standing with me too. My parents always taught me that God is always able, and I believe that. My encouragement to you is this: Whatever is going on in your life, remember, as my mom has always told me, that “God will always have his angels around you, taking your hand, and Jesus will deliver you in due time.” Matthew 4:6.

Rest in Peace

[Tamara passed away in October, 2014.]
[Tamara passed away in October, 2014.]
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Life Issues

Saying Goodbye

I just spent the final 30 minutes saying goodbye to my driver Lucky. Today we are leaving our expat assignment in Nigeria to move back to the United States. Yes, almost all expats in Lagos, Nigeria must have drivers for safety reasons. Lucky and I sat in the hotel lobby chatting. I shared how much I appreciated his service and love towards us. You see, Lucky is a believer. He is also a pastor. He was also our driver. We both needed each other for the time we had together. Going above and beyond his job description was Lucky’s forte. He would lay out Christian books and magazines for me to read on the backseat of the car. He would play Christian music for me as we drove around if I requested it. He would answer my deep theological questions. Lucky was not only our driver, but a brother in Christ. He shared that when we first came to Lagos my husband became like a father to him. His father died when he was 10 years old. He had no uncles or cousins to fill his father’s void. Per Lucky, my husband became that father figure to him. Have you ever noticed that it is in the final moments with someone, we tend to share our deepest thoughts? It could be the last minutes before you leave your child at college for the first time, it could be during the mother-son wedding dance, and it could be your final moments with a loved one before they pass away. In our final moments, Lucky and I encouraged each other by expressing our love and gratitude for each other. We both confirmed why God drew our families together. We also agreed that The Lord knows why we are being separated. Our most honest thoughts were shared in this final meeting. Now, let’s look at three of Jesus’ last earthly “cry outs” on earth. What did he share before his earthly separation from the people God created Him to serve and be an example to? First, before Jesus’ arrest, Jesus cried out with a loud voice saying, “Eli Eli, lema sabachthani? That is, My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46) Secondly, at his crucifixion, Jesus said, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:45) Finally, at his death, Jesus called out with a loud voice saying, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” (Luke 23:46) Whenever we depart from friends, families, jobs, let’s “pretend” that those moments might be our last moments with them. Let’s use our words wisely and follow Jesus’ example by saying only words and phrases that are heartfelt, meaningful, and Godly.

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Bible Gateway Blogger Grid (BG²) is an international network of independent bloggers who meaningfully blog—and who are serious—about matters relating to the Bible. Follow the members on Twitter using our BG² List.

www.PattiGreene.com