A Boatload of Ideas…because I talk to God

Sure, there are some things I know and do well because I've put in the reps to master them.

But there are A LOT of things I know and do well only because I talk to God.

I have been saying this for years.

There are moments where whole strategies tumble from my mouth to whomever they were meant for and it's not because I stayed up late planning them out. It's not because I am a genius (far from it). But because there is a yielded connection to the One who knows all things.

When we talk about favor and spiritual alignment and being blessed to be a blessing, this is part of it. Having something to share that may seem small to you but changes the whole course of a situation in the best way. You're not weird and it's not by chance that you know what you know. Even though, at times, you don't know how you know it.

There is no shortage of ideas or creativity when you choose to live aligned, I promise you. There is so much you can give away for free because, again I PROMISE YOU, there is more, SO MUCH MORE where that came from.

Keep on talking to God and let God talk to you.

Watch what happens.

On My God, My Ancestors, & My Future. We Outchea.

The church my great-great uncle founded in Somerville, NJ after fleeing Georgia with his brothers. They’d had a run-in with the Klan. This church and the community the built around it is a symbol of dignity, faith, and future-making.

I've been thinking and reading and discussing a LOT about the intersection of the Christian faith, creativity, and Afrofuturism.

I'm a Christ-follower doing my best to follow them words in red, y’all. And I’m a storyteller in all the different ways I've had the good fortune and opportunity to be one over the past 8 years.

I see Black people in the future.

And it's not the desolate, wilderness that a lot of White-imagined post-apocalyptic stories have in mind. I imagine and create and live toward a future that's prodigal in joy, community and health. And I don’t believe we have to wait until death to see it. I believe we can see it on this side of heaven.

We, as Black folks, have known desolation deeply. We have scratched and survived and, as Zora Neale Hurston said, "have been in Sorrow's kitchen and licked out all the pots."

I refuse to let any worse iteration of the future creep into my imagination to take up residence. How can I, when I think of my ancestors who lived and died enslaved, praying and daydreaming and singing and dancing and drumming and stomping and clapping a future into the existence that I live now?

Ancestors who subverted the slave masters’ story of Jesus with what they knew at a bone-deep, soul-deep level, and stole away to hush harbors to worship and commune? Ancestors who chose to risk everything to get free? Ancestors who created joy over and over again in the midst of suffering?

What a bridge. And my God…how we got over.

It's actually cowardly and lame to do less with my faith and imagination than they did.

I reject anything less than joy and health, and community pressed down, shaken together, and running over for our collective future.

We will more than survive all of this. *waves around at literally everything*

We got too many fan line dances, family reunions, graduation parties, film premieres, church pageants, movie nights, housewarmings, cookouts, baby dedications, seed and harvest times, long walks and peaceful sleeps to have together, y’all.

Embers | The Blog: Setting Fires of Self-Discovery

Embers are, at once, what is left of and what can ignite a fire. Embers are not showy. There’s no spectacle but there is a wonder, a magic when they spiral up into the sky once a good fire gets going. Or when they glow here and there after a fire has seemingly died out. They represent a host of things that could have me shoutin’ all up and through my house, or weeping in gratitude at the revelation. I’ll get into all of that later.

2026 brings with it more of my writing. This is major for me because I’ve seen myself as simply a helper for a long time. I am really good at helping others build their voices and platforms. Hence, why I’ve been part of a few award-winning podcast production teams. And I don’t take it lightly because it is both a gift and a skill and a deep passion of mine.

And yet, the time has come for me to be consistent in further developing and sharing my own voice. Yes, I have had a few short stories published and I am very proud of myself for following through on those dreams come true. Those little embers have progressively made me feel like, “Ok, girl… You’ve got what it takes. Let’s keep after it. Let’s hone it.”

Those accomplishments were achieved in fits and starts of inspiration. Little embers. Little sparks of inspiration. But, in full transparency, I have not loved writing the way I long to. The way those whose novels and articles and plays and poems and talks I’ve admired for decades have loved and shown up to the practice.

No, I have not loved writing that deeply. Not yet. But I want to. And I will.

And I suspect, that love hasn’t settled in me/on me, in part, because I have not committed to consistency.

When I read my favorite authors I am moved and want desperately to write in ways that move others similarly. But then, I psych myself out of the dedication it takes to get there. Often, I let the embers of love and inspiration and imagination die. I succumb to the craziness of immediacy even though I understand that wonderful things take time and commitment.

I understand that about myself and have reached a point where instead of beating myself up, I do the things.

Embers | The Blog is one of the things I am doing. Sharing little embers: monologues, written prayers, words of encouragement, and short stories as I massage, interrogate, allow, and welcome my voice and imagination to grow.

I’m looking forward to this, y’all.

Now…the cadence? I have not worked that out quite yet. But I will. I will.

So, thank you for checking the blog out, and coming along with me for the ride, no matter how long you stay, or if you decide to hop on and off as needed. I appreciate your eyes, ears, heart, and spirit.

My prayer is that the embers catch and beautiful fires grow here, there, and everywhere.