I’m not sure where to start, I’m in the middle of one of those experience’s that for sure have their own outcome – there is no controlling this process, no need to stress or fret – just show up and life will make it happen.
I’ve been awake since 3am – bad headache and inner dialogue that wouldn’t let me go…my mind was running through a list of what happened, what I shoulda – woulda – coulda wanna said, did etc., Finally it was time to get out of bed, I dressed and headed straight to acupuncture – I’ve been seeing someone beside Happy Son Of My People, mixing up my healing and taking it to another level – and y’all Dr. Sheng is GOOD. I knew that those needles were gonna ground me and the first thing that Dr.Sheng said to me was “Gurl, (yes she pronounces it this way as she has a thick Chinese accent) your root tired. Why you run your body so hard?”
I shrugged and responded “but I like life so much I just want to go fast.” She “tisked” me as I climbed on the table, ready to go down and stop that “thinking” of mine.
So you all have followed the Noble Makeover and know that I’ve been rockin’ and rollin but what you don’t know is what happened at Corinthian Baptist Church, however before I can fill you in I need to let you know a bit more about my religious history.
I was baptized Catholic – twice actually as my family was told I was sure to not survive infancy. My father’s family was Episcopalian, and until my parents divorce Catholicism is all we knew. I’m not sure what went on in my momma’s head, I suppose the shattering of the dream that she’d been creating opened her up to question “WHY” and “HOW COME.” (peep this link view a video about my momma’s religious journey)
We moved to Oberlin and far away from her strong Italian roots and she started searching – we tried out and even joined almost every church in town from Seventh Day Adventist, Jehovah’s Witness’s to Methodist. The Methodist Church located directly across the street from our house on Groveland St.; a predominately African American community – as we were the only “white” family, even though being white was questioned regularly as my mother was far from waspy – dark eyes, olive skin, prominent nose and late 1978 disco style afro – we viewed ourselves as “Other” and if you’re an “Other” than you know this can be both a tricky spot as well as liberating – as there is more freedom to become a “unique” being.
On the Sundays that we didn’t go off exploring churches, my momma would open the windows and have us sit and listen to the choir at Russ Methodist, she said listening to humans express their emotions like that was what church was really about – celebrating life.
This weekend was huge ‘cause my sister drove 10 hours to be there with me, packing in her trunk a box of stuff from my grandmother’s kitchen – The House That Built Mee. You see my grandparents supported my mothers exploring and kept their own Catholic position, giving us a Catholic Root. Nicole and I have always judged our success by how much food we have in the fridge, as kids we were so hungry and so embarrassed to tell anyone. We felt judged by the uppity white folks and our neighbors were poor black folks with nothing to eat themselves. When your momma is all you got and she is sick in the hospital for two weeks at a time, growing up and being able to buy whatever you want to eat at the market is SUCCESS.
Saturday morning was a rush, up until 9:00pm the night before we didn’t know if anyone was really coming – we’d had a communication mishap. Nicole and I cooked with Love everything in advance for the first Noble Food Makeover, we had to feed 12 folks and I wanted the first cooking lesson to be set up and easy, once it was over my goal was for us to sit together at the table – connected. I looked over at my sister and thought how appropriate it was to have her by my side not only were we providing a meal but one that actually can heal – fo’sho my momma was there witnessing. The evening ended in a blessing, a man named Mark that I believe to live in AUSTRALIA, who has been following this site stepped up and donated a dishwasher of the congregations choice, then came a woman named Joanne & her daughter Ashley from THE BAY AREA who donated 4 dozen complete sets of stone ware dishes. Another friend Heather Muro from OHIO is sending me a box of kitchen goods. Participation is the best medicine, so if you can hook us up – it doesn’t’ matter where you are!
Yesterday we all went to Corinthian Baptist Church, all meaning my husband, daughters, sister, nephew and Mary Alice – my sister by love. I didn’t know that I was going to speak I thought we were just gonna pass out flyers and get some footage of the congregation. However Pastor Fuzz was on it and he had a plan, before I knew it I was speaking before the congregation, a bit nervous and overwhelmed I was having so many personal realizations, hence the purpose of church – to see ourselves and only then can we see God/Nature/Creation. I was welcomed to the back room where all of the deacons and Pastor Enoch Fuzz gathered to plan out the service and pray. I looked into the faces that tie this community together, it was something out of a movie I tell you – most of these men have been part of this congregation for way more than 50 years, they have seen time and I watched as movies played across their faces.
Isabella my 8 year old got in the mix, making her way to the pulpit, taking the microphone thanking the congregation for having her and telling them that she appreciated how kind everyone was to one another. My eyes sparkled as I witnessed her confidence and capability, as this is one of the things that IS on my parenting list I have KNOWN from day one that I CAN give this gift to my children. Then she BROUGHT it, singing acapello “If I die young”. This feeling of good was only starting to warm up, before we knew it our entire row was tapping, rockin’, singing and clapping. We were there and nowhere else – present. Pastor Fuzz spoke about how we are all the same – humans – there is no difference in us – we are all a work in progress – which we are never in a position to judge, not even ourselves.
What a wonderful sermon for my first real Baptist Church experience; as a little girl my momma took us to a “Hell Damnation” Baptist Church once but all the hell damnation scared the mess out of us. Pastor Fuzz is all about encouraging folks to step up and take the high road. And let me tell you, these folks are on board for the Noble Food Makeover, they are fixn’ to prove that we all want to eat better and feel better, that we do have a CHOICE and life has brought me to one of the noblest groups in town to guide.
At one point in the service my whole body filled with emotion and I “felt” God speak…
When you’ve been as sick as I have for as long as I was – 14 years total, suffering close to death bowel obstructions I have prayed and asked him “Why?” Yesterday he answered, via feeling – I KNEW that all of the things I’ve gone through were to lead me directly to the seat that I was sitting in. I looked around the room and looked into the faces of all of my new teachers, I will guide them with food and they will usher in yet another level of experience for me to heal from. It is said that a writer writes to retrieve what they have lost…
At 3am when my headache was bangin’ and my mind was ramblin I thought wow, I’m following in my mothers footsteps once again introducing my daughter to different faiths so that she can learn that there are MANY paths to God.