A Woman's Tears Has Stories To Tell

The Journey Here


For many years I struggled with whether I could truly leave my life behind and become a minister. As I observed the church from the outside in, I saw no room for someone like me. Someone who believed that "no religion" could ever truly capture the love, beauty and power of the Most High God.

I had too many questions....the main one being :


Who was man to define who and what the Holy One is ?


Yet here I am. In my second year of seminary. Journeying deeper into the mystery of love and light....and beauty. Studying and exploring "theology" (the nature of God) on levels I would nor could have never imagined.


This month I begin training at the Shalem Institute. An expensive proposition (financially, emotionally and especially in terms of time) but my community....of humanity, is without question, worth the investment.


What a beautiful thing : to be training in the art of holy listening...learning to walk with another being in a journey that allows them to see & be....with their soul in a new and powerfully healing way.


The Voice of Women


Some people ask me....what will we call you at the end of your journey ? Rev, Pastor....minister.


The truth is that I am...and will always be... an artist. A poet who tells stories. And while all stories are beautiful...and important. I tell the stories of women.


I tell the stories of women that have lost their voice. Women who have forgotten how to dream...and how to sing.


I tell stories of women that shout....
And curse....
And love....
And dream....
And build communities....from stone and blood.


This journey will inspire my most powerful verse~


Zimbabwe & South Africa

Truth is....so many amazing people were applying to the Iliff School of Theology's Justice & Peace Program.... I never thought I'd be chosen.


There I was, applying...and telling stories about black folks dreaming dreams. New churches grounded in love. Churches where sin....was nothing more than being distant from the Holy One.


Ooooh, and I was talking about raising up girls....making them strong....helping them see themselves.


And I talked about the power....of a woman.


Women.


And making a difference for the voiceless.


And afraid that my heart would be broken if my dream of Africa was shattered with images of
pain.....AND
death....AND
despair.....AND
hopelessness....AND
abandoned
children....begging and broken...


But despite all that....I was willing....
Willing to be comfortable in my discomfort
Hoping that the Universe would spare me...
From seeing those children
My children
Every woman's children


Cause if I saw


then I would be responsible....


To tell her story....to tell their story


How could I not....?


......a woman's tears has stories to tell......


And every poet...at least this poet...must write that story


So I will tell it.... well and fair




What I need from YOU


Prayers, Prayer and more prayers....plus your hard earned cash.


It's simple....give a little. Give a lot...and tell a friend.


Love & Light,


Jah