My Enigma

A puzzle.  That’s what my life feels like.  I am certain that I am called to teach and lead in schools, sing, write songs, craft, write, preach, be an entrepreneur, etc.  I struggle with understanding how to do all of these at once, and when, and where.  I have received clear direction from the Lord about my call to do all of these things, to impact the world in these ways, but sometimes it all feels like too much to manage.  Managing all of these portions of myself feels like a great enigma, a code I can’t crack.

I am still living in Indianapolis, 8 years after moving here.  I took a non-traditional route in becoming a licensed teacher, moved directly into and through a school administrator program, but I have yet to land a job.  I am currently enrolled in a district superintendent licensure program while continuing to apply for building level roles.  All of this is in keeping with my responsibility to create schools that provide a high quality education for students from some of the most underserved communities.  God told me to do this and I am doing all that I can to prepare for the role.  The formation of these schools is connected to my calling to train women to follow God, to pursue Him, live for Him, and serve Him in every sector of society.  And, yet, I have not been able to land my first job in school administration.  I have maintained a Bible study based on the life of Esther in the Marion Co. Juvenile Detention Center, spent a lot of time serving in ministry in the Church, but this many years later, I am still not in the place God showed me.  By now I thought that I would be working in ministry full time, potentially serving in my own schools, making music, writing books, etc.   And, yet, I feel stuck in the classroom.

While I am privileged to teach Spanish in a historic high school to students who are underserved, this is not the position that I believe I am supposed to be in…now.  I feel that I should be leading in the ways that God showed me after so many years of study, preparation, and service.  I have served children as a volunteer, substitute teacher, adolescent substance abuse counselor, and teacher for more than 18 years.  I feel anxious, incredibly dissatisfied, and somehow aware that something is about to shift dramatically so that I am in the space I desire to be. 

I have been most recently stirred by my trip to the Dominican Republic.  In June, I spent a few days teaching English to Haitian refugee children living in a batey, an internment camp where Haitians were originally forced to farm sugar cane.  These children changed me.  They refreshed me and reminded me that my calling in education is international. Meeting the director of the foundation I worked with shifted my thinking as well.  MC, as she is called, is Haitian be descent, has spent time living and working in the US as a teacher, and currently lives in Panama leading 2 schools and a host of ministry efforts. 

Meeting her caused me to shift my ideas about how I should approach school leadership and international ministry therein.  To be honest, I wanted to do what she is doing.  Her schools serve children that have very little access to a quality education and allows them to obtain a diploma in the US and Panama.  Meeting someone who has actually done what I wanted to do in the US, Haiti, and West Africa was truly monumental, inspiring, and motivating.  To some degree, she was living my dream.  Her life gave me a model for what I have simply been imagining.

Returning to my life in the US felt like returning to something too small.  Those children and MC awakened my heart’s desire.  I long to be doing this work now.  I began thinking and praying about the possibility of working abroad.  I continued to apply for school administrator jobs in Indianapolis, but I also started looking for school administration jobs outside of the US.  Nothing piqued my interest, but the possibility of beginning my school leadership journey abroad remained strong in my heart.  A little over a week ago, I shared my frustrations regarding not getting an administrator job in Indy with a former co-worker and she advised me to search abroad. Something jumped in my spirit when she said it.  I felt affirmed.  The next day, I found a school principal opening that interested me in Cartagena, Colombia.  The next day I applied for the job.  The next day I got an email from the school director confirming receipt of my application and indicating the potential of an interview. Today, I am praying that I make the semi-finalist list for applicants and eventually land the job.  I am also trusting God that He will help me to make sense of all of this. 

Somehow I am going to realize my responsibilities to lead schools, preach, sing, prophesy, craft, entrepreneur, and be an excellent wife to an amazing king.  I don’t know how all of this fits together, but I know the God who has already ordered my steps.  I know that God is connecting me to the people and places that I need to facilitate His purposes for my life.  I know that when trust Him with all my heart and do not lean to my own understanding, when I acknowledge Him in all my ways, He will direct my path.  I know that God is making my way clear.  While it’s still muddy, I am praying, prophesying, recalling His promises so that this puzzle is no longer my enigma.

I Am Packing By Faith

...believing that God is going to send me somewhere sunny and beachy.  I need a vacation and I strongly desire to participate in an international missions trip...and today, I don't have the money.  So, I must pack by faith.  God knows the desires of my heart.  He knows that I've applied to a prestigious international fellowship for teachers and been turned down twice.  He's seen me Google countless vacation packages with only a window shopping budget.  The only thing I haven't done is pack by faith.

In college, God put in on my heart to maintain a packed bag as an act of faith that He would routinely and spontaneously send me on missions trips.  Ridiculously, I've never done it.  Unfortunately, I've used the fledgling state of my finances as an excuse for not packing (which can mean buying) immediately ...until I took care of more urgent things like rent and car payments.  Desperately and finally, today I'm writing the vision and making it plain.  Somehow, someway, I believe that God is going to send me on a dually-purposed trip.  I'll be gone for 10-14 days this summer, spending 1 week on the mission field and 1 week basking in the glory of His creation.  None of this will interfere with my school schedule.  He will make it beautiful in its time. I will pack by faith and not by sight.

On Dating and the 'F' Word

I’ve never liked being called fat.  Never.  And yet, I’ve been teased by peers, both children and adults, for my entire life about being, well, fat.  I repeat, I have never liked being called fat.  It has always hurt, stung, sometimes more than others, but it has always, always hurt.  I’ve been bigger than I’m supposed to be (according to all of my doctors) for my whole life.  I was put on my first diet in the first grade.  Weighing an outrageous 103lbs. clearly merited an intervention. At this stage in my life I actually took pride in being taller and bigger than everyone, though.  My little mind felt that my gargantuan status made me unique, different, special.  These boastful feelings would die a few years later. 

By the time I was a tweenager I was self-conscious of my size for negative reasons.  I felt fat.  The kind that’s socially uncomfortable.  I had no problems with the weigh I felt in my own body, but I didn’t like the weigh others perceived me.  I started to hear giggles and snickers.  I couldn’t keep up gym class.  To this day, I have never made it across monkey bars and I was usually one of the last kids chosen when it was time pick teammates for kickball.  Others noticed, so I did too.  Even more painful, adults, family members included, would openly tease me.  “Natalie Ann, what size you wearin’ now?”…Upon checking the size of my dress hanging in the doorway, “Uh…uh…uh…”  “You gotta get some of that weight off you, girl.” 

LIKE I WAS FEEDING MYSELF!

Children have no control over the foods or portion sizes to which they are exposed.  Coupled with what I believe to be a genetic predisposition to obesity, the types and amounts of food I was given as a child cemented my arrival in the plus size section of my local Deb clothing store in the 3^rd grade.  To clarify, I am not blaming my parents.  My mother is an amazing cook, specializing in traditional Southern and African American cuisine.  Throughout my life people have told her, almost begged her, to open a restaurant so that they could more frequently enjoy her cooking.  She’s good, and she did everything she knew to do to take care of her family.  My brother and I were well-dressed, well-groomed, and well-fed.  I became accustomed to eating a lot of really good food, too much good food…at all times of day and night.  And so, I developed a habit of overeating without really knowing it. 

By the time I was in 7^th grade, I was just average height, but weighed a ridiculous 219lbs.  By then, I accepted that I was a “big girl” and fit into a kind of miscellaneous, misfit pile in the dysfunctional social strata of middle school.  I became keenly aware that I didn’t look like most of the girls with boyfriends, but I wanted one.  I felt that it was fine for me not to have a boyfriend currently, but I knew that I wanted a boyfriend in high school and definitely had to have a prom date.  High school happened and I neither gained a boyfriend nor a prom date.  I did, however, suffer open ridicule, some quieter, some louder, for my size.  My favorite memories include being referred to as Missy Elliot (sized much larger than my peers and I deemed attractive), having my (slow, “big girl”) walk imitated by a football player in my homeroom (he poked his butt out for emphasis and discussed his act with a neighboring football player before execution), and being patted on the butt as a joke by a fellow marching band member.  He and his friends must have had a discussion about this unwelcomed touch before it happened because they all laughed as soon as he removed his hand.  We were supposed to be standing silently still in a circle as a part of an attention drill for performances, but he moved…his hand onto my right glute and laughed.  My sexuality was a joke.  I felt it.  I was too fat to date. 

Heading into college, I believed that I would quickly find my husband, the God-sent man who would make up for all of the years of rejection I faced as a teenager.  He would love me.  We would date, graduate engaged, marry and live happily ever after.  Never happened.  Instead, I was once again boyfriendless and dateless.  On a conscious level, I tried to be as attractive as I could.  I flirted with new styles, kept myself up, and added accent pieces here and there.  I’ve always enjoyed looking good.  I’ve always loved frills.  But on a subconscious level, I felt unattractive.  I felt too fat to date.  This must have been this case.  Why else was I perpetually single?  I cannot say that any one man gave me this impression, just that because I wasn’t being pursued, I assumed that men didn’t find me attractive because I was fat.  I had varying levels of consciousness about this.  Although I harbored insecurity about my physical appearance, I maintained consistent hope and expectation that someone would find me attractive enough to date.  I enjoyed flirting, but never moved passed these casual interactions to anything that would lead to an actual date, further and further and further confirming my self-loathing.  I felt too fat to date.

Many long talks with God unraveled my erroneous web of thinking.   Yes, I consulted God.  What was He going to do about my lack of a dating life?  Very odd to me, He informed me that He wanted all of my attention and that my perpetual singleness was a result of His protection from the harm that cycling through relationships can bring. (I’ll write much more about this later.  In fact, I’ll cover it in a book.)  This helped tremendously!  The heaviness of rejection was lifted and I felt more confident in who I was than I ever had.  God was my Father.  He created me in His image and this made me beautiful.  He let me know that there was nothing wrong with my desire to be attractive to the opposite sex, but that I could never situate or evaluate my identity based on how men approached or didn’t approach me.  I would finish college with salvific confidence in God’s protection, but I still wanted to date.  I still wanted to marry. The devil still sometimes haunted me with the fear of being rejected by men for a myriad of reasons, but primarily because of my size. 

I fought very hard against this lie in my early adulthood.  I decided to address my dissatisfaction with my size through weight loss plans in college and after graduation.  Men took notice of the change in my appearance, but more accurately, the change in my confidence, and started to approach me more.  It had been very difficult for me to reason how other “big girls,” several larger than me, had men and I didn’t.  I failed, at times, to maintain the understanding that God gave me that I was single and not dating because He wanted me to focus fully on Him and serving in the Church.  (1 Corinthians 7:34 provides this instruction.)  I wasn’t supposed to be dating.  On my worst days, I felt like something was inherently wrong with me.  On my best days, I walked in full assurance of God’s care for me.  On my best days, I did not care about not dating.  And, on my best days, I got hit on, a lot.  I am grateful for this correlation:  when I felt best about myself, men did too.  After losing almost 80lbs. and going from a size 24 to a size 12, I felt different about me.  I felt good about me and men did too.  Although I was still categorized as overweight at 180lbs. and 5’6”, I felt amazing.  My energy changed and I started to attract men everywhere I went.  My encounters at gas stations were the funniest.  Seems a lady like myself shouldn’t have to pump her own gas. 

In the 7 years since my last attempt at taking off the weight (yep, I gained most of it back), I have still fought, almost daily to maintain a healthy view of myself.  I am far more confident than I was when I was teenager, but I still sometimes struggle with my weight and satisfaction with my body image.  I am no longer in the very dark, dense depression that I was in high school about my body.  (Thank You, Jesus!  Depression is real and it feels so good to be free!)  But…I still want to be a better steward of my body.  I still want to feel better in my own skin. 

When I hit 30, I started to feel really good about my potential for attracting a potential husband.  I don’t know why, but when I hit the big 3-0, a lot of mental weight started falling off of me. Additionally, I enjoyed being hit on by men I found attractive, were gainfully employed and not criminal.  Still no dates, though.  Then one day  I was fussing at God about how long He was taking with delivering my promised Boo, and I got an inbox asking me if I was interested in being introduced to a potential husband. (Pause.  If you’re reading this and you are not a Christian who believes that we should only date toward marriage, meaning that we don’t date recreationally, but with the sole purpose of acquiring a spouse, I know this sounds very weird.  I promise, I’ll write an explanation later.)  I was floored and thankful that a past ministry partnership, could lead to marriage.  A former colleague introduced me to the first man that I would ever date at 31 years of age.  Yep, I didn’t go on my first date until I was 31 years old.  I had been serving the Lord as instructed, spending (not enough) quality time with Him, all the while maintaining my faith that He would ensure that my husband and I would someday meet.  And, just like that, I was introduced to an amazing, godly man. 

He fulfilled all of my prayerful requests for spiritual leadership and a few aesthetic things like height, being musical, and very good in his field.  I fully believed God had ordained our relationship and eventual marriage.  One problem: I didn’t find him attractive.  In fact, I was extremely unattracted to him.  So much so, that I cried.  Why did God do this?  I was finally in a dating relationship, but I didn’t want to have sex with the man I was dating.  To clarify, I was and I am still fully committed to saving sex for marriage, but I am fully persuaded that sexual desire should come before wedding vows are stated.  This was not the answer to my prayers.  I cried and cried.  He was amazing in every other way.  He scored 100% in the “Things that Count” category.  But, I knew that I wouldn’t want to have sex with him, a fairly important part of marriage.  After a few too many tears, I made the decision to end the relationship.  We met at a coffee shop…and he already knew before I started talking. 

I spent the next few months pressing God about why all this had occurred, and then one day He told me that the way I felt about my suitor was the way I felt that men felt about me.  Whoa.  I promise I really believed I was over feeling unattractive, too fat to date, but I was not.  I was still convinced of my unattractiveness on a subconscious level, so much so that I attracted someone who reflected my belief that men only saw value in my character.  I was a good girl, smart, kind, I would probably make a good mother someday, but I wasn’t sexy.  I was too fat to date.  Ouch.  This stung.  My ex was a mirror image of my beliefs about my unattractiveness to men.

I was immediately convicted about ever feeling that our failed relationship had anything to do with what was wrong with him. (He obviously lacked self-confidence, even once warning me not to fall for his best friend because of his green eye color.  So weird.  I could feel that he didn’t feel that he was good enough for me which was a major turn-off.  Note to self.)  I began praying that whatever lessons he needed to learn from the situation were learned quickly and that his heart would be healed so that he could move on and enjoy a healthy relationship (I believe this prayer was answered.)  I also began praying about what I determined to be a persistent plague.  Somewhere deep in my cerebrum, I still felt that I was too fat to date, that I was unattractive, unsexy.

I’ve since devoted that last 4 years to addressing my insecurities head on, boldly asking God for help and being intentional about dismissing negative self-talk and the temptation to compare my body to others.  Of late, and I mean within the last 6 months, perhaps because God has given me 2 prophetic dreams (dreams that indicate future events) and prophetic words through 2 prophets (people that relay God’s messages about the future) that God was preparing me for marriage and that marriage was on the horizon, I’ve felt very comfortable with my image.  Like, I’ve let so much of the worrying about not being attractive to a potential mate go.  And it feels so good. Perhaps it’s because I’ll be turning 35 on the 29^th of this month or a combination of these 2 that I just feel relieved, that I can, should, must drop all of my insecurities about my body.  I’ve even lent myself to the mind that husbae would be really fond of my ability to keep him extra warm.  I’ll leave it at that.  I’ve been working to live in the persuasion that without losing another pound or inch, my man, the husband God has for me, would desire me.  And it feels so good, being okay with me feels so good.

And then this happened.  I overheard some friends talking about potential mates, trying to figure out who would pair well with whom and then someone suggested me.  Without a single breath, the intended beau retorted, “Natalie is fat.”  He felt that I was too fat to date.  The other 2 loud talkers chuckled.  I remembered.  I remembered years of ridicule and laughter, but also rejoiced that I didn’t feel paralyzed by this rejection.   I was discomforted by this statement, angry that the people in the kitchen hadn’t figured out that the people in the living room could hear their conversation, and annoyed that my size meant that I was unattractive to someone.

For the record, I am not attracted to the individual who apparently doesn’t care for plus size women.  There is no crush to speak of.  Our relationship is completely professional and I am more than okay with this, but it just didn’t feel good to be rejected by someone of the opposite sex because of my size.  It stung and reminded me of how I used to feel, of what I used to believe.  And so, I’ve spent a decent part of the last 2 days perusing plus size dating videos on Youtube and skimming BBW dating Instagram posts (Warning: Even if your inquiry is an innocent search for sisterhood, you’ll run across a plethora of risqué images) all in search of community, of other women who shared my experiences and victoriously claimed their confidence and a couple of cute husbands.  I found this and also felt a burden to write this expression of my evolution. 

I’ve decided to love me and love being me, no matter my size.  I am me and I am fine with that.  At my last doctor’s visit I weighed a surprising 260lbs.  I’d weighed 244lbs., within my typical range of 225-245lbs., at my visit in December of the previous year and didn’t expect the ten month gap to introduce the15lbs. that I’ve decided to drop in addition to another 60 or so.  But I’ve decided to love myself every step of the weigh down (or up.)  I’ve never enjoyed feeling bad about myself, so I’ve just decided to feel good.  I don’t know what changed in my head, but I’ve just decided to feel good about me, to enjoy my body and shape regardless of its fluctuations.  I must be more responsible with regards to maintaining a healthy weight, but I simply refuse to engage in anymore self-loathing.  I’ve already lost too many years to that. And yes, I believe that I am desirable, that I can be loved by the man of my dreams, and that I am not too fat to date.

Focus Forward

Difficult. Painful. Taxing. Rough.  Getting through the end of a season can be any or all of these things.  Starting from scratch can be equally daunting.  And yet, we must persevere; push through and to everything God has promised.  The dream, the vision cannot birth itself.  We must Lamaze our way to the manifestation of God’s word.  Tired, hurting, depleted we must press through the final stages of our pregnancies and deliver what God has spoken.  While it is tempting to tire of opposition along our way, we cannot “lose heart and grow weary and faint in acting nobly and doing right, for in due time and at the appointed season we shall reap, if we do not loosen and relax our courage and faint.” (Galatians 6:9)  When memories of past challenges or failures vie for our attention, we must forget “what lies behind and strain…forward to what lies ahead….” (Philippians 3:13)

God is prepared to deliver.  He has already started to fulfill His word.  We must focus on what’s in front of us and see the new things springing forth in our lives.  He is currently making ways “in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19)  He is helping us, He is ushering us to victory.  Though our paths seem impassable, He is with us.  Let me stop stealing from the Bible and type this whole verse out.

Fear not [there is nothing to fear], for I am with you; do not look around you in terror and be dismayed, for I am your God.  I will strengthen and harden you to difficulties, yes, I will help you; yes, I will hold you up and retain you with My [victorious] right hand of rightness and justice.         -Isaiah 41:10

God’s got us.  By His grace we’re closing in on the victory He has promised.  With His help we can complete our race and receive the prize(s) we’re due. (Philippians 3:14)  We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. (4:13) Every word He has spoken will not return to Him [without producing an effect, useless], but it shall accomplish that which [He] pleases and purposes, and it shall prosper in the thing for which [He] sent it. (Isaiah 55:11)

Throughout whatever difficulties we face in completing our existing God-given assignments and launching new ones, we must not lose hope.  “Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.”  (Hebrews 11:1)  We must persevere, relying on God’s word for faith to finish and faith to start.  Shrug off discouragement, disappointment, and weariness.  Commune with God in prayer, feast on the Word, and keep moving.  Refuse the temptation to ruminate on past or present hardships and focus forward.

It's Been A While

It's been a while.  Almost 5 years. 

Reviewing old blogs reminds of the exciting place I was in way back in 2011, anticipating my next move.  Where would I go?  What would I do next?  How would I realize my dreams in education and ministry?  Well, Haiti called and I answered.  Indianapolis did too and I answered.  I've spent the last 4 and a half years living in Indianapolis, earning a teaching license and a building level administrator license.  (Principal Witherspoon will soon be an appropriate title.) I've also managed to find my way back to Haiti and teach amazing children in 4 distinct school models locally.  Along the way I got fired and hired. I've cried, laughed, become an aunt, made some friends, survived Indy's crazy winters, and developed an unshakeable faith.  It is this faith in God that has kept me sane and sustained.  Throughout all of my triumphs and trials God has kept me.  He has faithfully encouraged and nourished me, pushing and pulling me forward on this predestined path.  And that is what brings me back here. 

While praying about what was next in my life God told me to restart my blog.  I expected something more profound.  (I did hear other things too like resume volunteering in the juvenile justice system.  I started discipling girls in the Marion Co. Juvenile Detention Center last year.  Please join me in prayer for them.) But, yeah, God told me to restart my blog.  I have some suspicions as to why, but only He knows all.  I trust Him and I know that I have many stories to tell.  Principally His, evidenced through my own.  But, yeah, I'm back to writing.  While I cannot tell you the direction I'll take, I can tell you that I'm excited to see where this familiar leg of my race leads.  I have a post ready for publishing immediately following this brief re-introduction entitled, "Focus Forward." As always, I hope it inspires, comforts, and challenges. 

I appreciate all of your support and pray God's best for you including the courage it takes to follow His directions, no matter how grand or seemingly trivial. Follow God. 

Bon voyage...

Haiti Restored Part Infinite

A year ago today, I had the pleasure of meeting Haiti formally.  I'd dreamt of her, longed for her, prayed for her, seen plenty of her pictures, but had yet to make her acquaintance.  Our time together was encapsulated in just 10 short days and I can truly say that the pleasure was all mine.  Her beauty, breathtaking.  Her people, heart-shaping.  Her spirit, awakening.  No one like Haiti. 

How could she breathe so deeply, respire so fully, inspire so concretely?  She, the forgotten, forsaken.  She, the downtroddened, heavyladened....Welcomed me.  With open arms, broad smiles, and deep laughter, she welcomed me.  She held me in the arms of orphaned children.  Overwhelmed me with, bold starry nights.  Chastised my selfishness with seas of shanty.  Graciously, she welcomed me. 

She taught me.  I mean she schooled me.  Lectured the mess right out of my heart.  Pride and self-pity were no match for her soliloquy.  Blind ambition fell beneath her gaze.  She educated me.

I miss her.  From then until now, my heart has longed for her embrace.  I think I want to remain there.  Humbled by her strength.  Captured by her grace. 

I hope that we will see each other soon.  Resume our quest for justice, love, and peace.  Haiti.

La Bella Bargainista: Ad 1

Hello Ladies!

(Sorry Guys. This segment is exclusively for my Ain't-No-Recession-Gonna-Keep-Me-From-Being-Fly Sisters!)

Don't you look lovely! Look atcha. Hair did. Toes painted. Face graced. Like me, you are a beautiful woman who has learned to appreciate your aesthetic uniqueness. You delight in all girlie treats including, but not limited to, lip gloss, nail lacquer, smell goods and such. Bottom line, you love yourself and you understand that your outward appearance is a reflection of this reality. Consequently, you are committed to keeping up your appearance. Period. Recession Smession. Even on 3/4, 1/2, or 1/4 of your normal budget you've found creative ways to keep    

The Doll in order.   Brava, My Dear, Brava. *curtsies*

With the series, "La Bella Bargainista" I intend to assist you with this all-important task. Each entry, or "Ad" will feature beauty tips and/or prudent finds, all in the spirit of helping you maintain your look for less.

Before we launch our maiden voyage, some definition. I'm a former Spanish teacher who makes some attempt to stay abreast of pop culture. The title of this series is an amalgamation of these interests. La Bella is Spanish for "the beautiful" and Bargainista is, well, Pop for "a woman who passionately and skillfully pursues sales and savings." Let's get started. The aisles deals are waiting!

1. The Dollar Menu. That's right, one George Washington (plus tax) can land you any of the following at your local $ Tree or beauty bargain bin.



Nails Loud

Eyes A-Glam

Lip Gloss Poppin'

2.  Two Peas in a Pod.  Yep, just 2 buckaroos at one of those Huge Lot stores.



Beauty Captured



Feet Pampered

3.  Three's A Crowd.  Dig deep in those couch cushions and pull out 12 more quarters.

Lips Sealed

Soul Windows Secured

Alright, Beauties.  I hope you're encouraged and inspired.  Happy Hunting!