I have visions of being cradled by you.
You smelling my first breath.
Giving me my first kiss, and showing me the first love of a man so that I’d know.
Helping me to drive a car, and being that shoulder to cry on.
The guiding voice of reason.
I have visions.
Many visions but, they are false.
Because you weren’t there.
These visions are tangled in the corners of my mind and they warp any sense of what should be, of what could be for me.
When my first love beat me with his fist like the violent rhythms of a nasty drum beat, you weren’t there to tell me, ‘no baby this isn’t how it should be.’
When my legs were pryed open by the first man who said I love you girl, you weren’t there to tell me ‘baby, just because he said it doesn’t mean it’s love.’
Wait for the one who God sends.
You didn’t tell me.
I didn’t know.
Because you didn’t show me the ways of love between a man and a woman, or between a father and a child.
I simply didn’t know.
I got older yes, but still I was messed up inside.
I’ve learned the ways of man by looking through the only glasses that have been provided for me. And these glasses are dingy.
They can’t seem to get clean.
And then, after all, now, you come back saying you want to show me how to love.
You want to show me what to except, and you want me to trust you.
You want me to forgive you because you weren’t there but, you don’t keep your word.
And you fool me again. This time the lesson you teach is one of disappointment, lies, and judgements.
From your lessons I still don’t know what it looks like between a man and a woman.
Now when I meet someone who is truly good, I run.
He wants to love me and it feels all wrong.
I pick him to pieces, searching, looking for that bad piece to fit the puzzle I am so use to.
I self destruct because good isn’t what I’m here for.
Good isn’t what you’ve shown me.
I keep waitin for you to validate me.
Waiting for you to accept me, waiting for you to love me,
love me,
love me.
And you can’t deliver.
And I cry, and die a little more inside everytime you try.
But today, I stand.
I hear a voice. so loud, so clear. so pure.
It’s the voice of God.
He gently tells me, that the validation I’ve been seeking is from my earthly father but “I am” your Heavenly Father.
The father of all nations, the father high in all the earth.
And I am yours.
I kissed you with the sun.
I cuddled you at night, I breathed life into you from that day to the next day to this day.
I was here to show you always what the love of a father looked like but you didn’t see me.
Do you see me now?
I will never leave you.
I will never forsake you.
I made you in the image of what is most important to me.
I gave you gifts, I gave you joy, I even gave you some trials, but I am always here.
I will always accept you,
and I will always love you,
love you,
love you.
You my child, are delivered.

© D. Lavon 2003- all rights reserved

I know it’s late, or for some it may be early. I was up revisiting some old journals, and I came across this. I thought, hmmmmmm.. This might be good for somebody. So yes, I’m posting it now.
And in a hurry before I change my mind. This is one of those times when my annoyingly private self is having a full blown moment of transparency.
Let me hit post and log off before I come to my private, secret squirrel senses and hit delete.
By the way, happy July. I completely missed posting in the month of June. Maybe we can play catch up. I have lots to share..

Disclaimer: this piece is not an attack or vendetta against anyone. I don’t bash men, or my father. This is simply Dee. Straight, no chaser in 2003.

Let me know your thoughts on the subject.

Peace & Love

I checked a text messages and it read:

“What I need right now is a prayer”

That was a text from my daughter earlier today. Immediately, I went into mommy mode panic mode.

The time is 1:10pm

I asked her what happened. She said air was coming fast out of her tire and she was on the highway.

The time is 1:18pm

It’s another text, and this one reads, Omg!  Omg!

At this point for me, the panic is real. “what’s wrong”?

“My tire just blew out, I had to pull over to the side of the road. I’m real annoyed right now, Ugh! I told her to calm down, and look for a spare, call AAA, and… she didn’t respond.”

Well, she said she needed a prayer, so I started praying.

The time is 1:33pm

Yet another text, but this time her tone is way different. She says, “God is real, and I love him so much.”

She then sent me a series of photos. And I thought awwwww, there are still some good people in this world. God will send help to you, all you have to do is call him. That was proof, maybe that she needed because I already know him for myself. And he is far better to me than I’ve ever been to myself..

The time is 1:38 and she was back on the road, riding on her spare.
Look at God. Won’t he do it!


God bless this man who stopped to help my child.

I don’t know why I panic really. It’s just my nature as a human being,  but my nature in the spirit took over and everything was alright. I don’t take it lightly. I don’t care how small, slight, or not so big a deal it seems to be. I aknowledge him in all things.

Wont he do it!! And yes, that’s a statement. A matter of fact actually.

Don’t doubt him, try him for yourself.

Peace and blessings,


Does prayer offend you?

This was the question I posed to a group of ladies after witnessing a few become annoyed by a prayer. Let me start from the beginning…

I often pray with and get encouragement from a fellow coworker. She doesn’t work in my department, but her job puts her in close proximity to mines. It’s amazing how certain individuals are drawn together. This powerful woman of God, whom for the sake of this story I’ll call “Deborah” (later I will explain why I call her that). “Deborah” is highly spiritual and without a doubt carrying an awesome anointing. There were three older ladies in the waiting area. Think of these women as the “church mothers”, “the big Mamma’s”, the Sister Sarah’s and nem. All of a sudden, I heard them speaking with “Deborah”. Within seconds, I felt a huge surge. A force so very strong that I had no choice but to go and see what was beckoning me. Those church mothers and “Deborah” were holding hands with bowed heads. Clearly, prayer and reverence was taking place. They were barely speaking above a whisper, but I still managed to hear and recognize a holy language being spoken between them. I walked into the hallway, and was nearly knocked off my feet. Behold the surge. So strong and so high. Lord almighty!!!! I felt it through every bone in my body. I walked around that circle of women and I had no idea what they were praying about, I just made a quick
decision to touch them all, and I said out loud that I was touching and agreeing on whatever it was they were praying about.
That power, the surge, the Holy Spirit that flowed through that hallway couldn’t be denied. Again, I stress that their voices were barely above a whisper. Also, no other “customers” were there. Then, it happened. Four other coworkers walked into the hallway and began to project a look and a feeling of pure disdain. They began to shuffle around and whisper. They rolled their eyes, they shook their heads, and they scurried about some more. The seemed to become unhinged.
But why?
As a believer, I couldn’t wrap my mind around exactly what part of this minimal demonstration, lasting 2-3 mins, tops, offended them!
Was it prayer in and of itself?
Was it the coming together of individuals in mind, soul, and body that they saw?
Was it the holy language that they heard?
Was it because it was happening in the workplace?
Are they non-believers?
I mean what?
A myriad of questions invaded my thoughts. All of a sudden now, I was offended. Offended from their immediate display of disdain. Offended because they were talking about it negatively. Offended because they spoke about my friend. My sister in Christ. Perhaps talking about getting “Deborah” banned from our floor. Hold up…
Say what now..
Ok, that’s it, I’m fading to black.

I went around asking, does prayer offend you? I couldn’t get one person to tell me yes. Not one person. But they continued to hush and scurry amongst each other for the rest of the day. One person told Deborah, I wasn’t offended, but others were. Humph! She was too. Just unable to admit it when confronted. We don’t all have to agree, and people are free to believe whatever they choose. Free will, we have that choice. If you don’t agree with prayer, don’t participate. But to go that far, when this is what the church mothers were about, it was what they wanted, I mean you could see that. You would think that it was praise dancing, tambourine banging, hooping and hollering going on. Their voices were barely above a whisper. I was just, blown. I’m trying to write this with an open mind, to be objective in my approach and all that, and I guess I have failed miserably with this post. I am totally subjective and I have to admit, the way they behaved, it bothered me. It awakened in me a deep hostility. It reminded me of racism, sexism, and all the other isms I can’t find right now in my mind, but please say you get my drift. It just took me to a weird place. Am I overreacting? Is this my stuff? Naw, it can’t just be me. Now, could “Deborah” had moved along elsewhere and not felt the disapproval of the others.
Although they weren’t loud, could she had been more discreet?
But, she told me, “The Lord told me to pray, right then, right there so, I couldn’t disobey. I will not cower and hide. I will not deny my God”. Hallelujah!!!
She moves about doing her job and while doing that, she is witnessing, she is giving a kind word, a warm smile, a positive way of thinking. She is speaking into your life, and you are just drawn to her spirit. If you know the biblical story of Deborah which can be found in the book of judges, you’ll understand why I call her this.
In the bible, Deborah was such a strong woman, a Prophetess and the only female judge mentioned. Deborah helped bring a great victory for God’s people. I’m saying all this to say that sometimes everything that has the ability to shake will be shook. I get that. We all have our assignments, and others have theirs. To me, it was an appointed time. The “church mothers” were like a breath of fresh air. Like angels on assignment. “Deborah” was in the right place at the right time. I found the whole experience beautiful and humbling. It still saddens and frustrates me, that people are often too quick to judge that in which they don’t understand.

Oh well, at this point I’m probably about to start rambling, so I guess I should close out this post. I just really needed to get this off my chest.
I honestly want to know, does prayer offend you? Is there a right or wrong time and or place for this? Please share your thoughts and thanks for reading.

Peace and Blessings,