AA

So truth be told, I'm a writer but I never try to because I'm afraid.  Truth be told, I'm a poet, and a designer but again I never try because I'm afraid.  If I tell you how many pieces I've written in my head, I'd be a millionaire.  I think a lot, speak a bunch but not really what I dream.  My mind thinks about things constantly.  Like how I would rebuttal an issue or the many issues I'm passionate about.  I think about how to make things.  I pull them apart in my mind, can unfold an object and rebuild it, find the problems and redo it again.  I think about poetic pieces and different topics to write about.  Honestly, there's nothing more than saying I just don't do it because of fear.

 

See growing up, I wasn't the artistic one in my family.  All three of my brothers could draw and I mean draw well.  They each had their own style but there were good.  I remember a piece my oldest brother did of a horse and you could see the definition of it's muscles.  It was simply done in black ink but what made it extraordinary was that it was done out of 1000's of small black dots, basically pointillism.  You wouldn't know from first glance but getting close to it, you could see his execution, it was amazing!  To the point that it got framed and hung in our home.  Then my second brother, he's the "artsy" one.  He is the "Renaissance Man", he draws and really well, think Avatar but with far more worlds and characters,(Avatar should have been his creation truthfully speaking, he's that good - shameless plug: Absolutely!!!) he sculpts, he writes, he designs, he's flipping ridiculous!  And my third brother, he draws as well, really good with landscapes and child like comics.  So yes, they all had some sort of artistic expression and were really good at it.  They didn't all pursue this as a career but for what it's worth, they are gifted.  

 

As for me, I wasn't the drawer.  My sculptures were truly like the menial gifts a child makes for their mother, and my drawing was solely of simple geometric shapes on my notebooks, lol.  I laugh looking back because that's not where my forte laid.  I love art, but more over pursued it with instruments and even then, I wasn't all that amazing and had to give them both up before anything could really come of it.  I did learn to draw portraits in middle school and that was fun.  For some reason I did alright at that and knew if I had a chance, maybe that would have gone somewhere but again, I let that go.  So as you see my artistic expression wasn't really anything to be doted.  However, though I didn't focus on the arts, I pursued science and I pursued it hard core.  I knew at an early age that I wanted to be a doctor so even before I hit high school I made sure to get into the right classes to set myself up to make my dream come true.  I did everything to the point of taking 2 math courses one year because that was what I thought I wanted.  I still remember my senior year classes because I didn't take the easy route, I wanted to achieve and so I did what any achiever would do and loaded myself up with AP courses: English, Calculus, Physics, and Chemistry.  Note, I would have added Biology if I could but my schedule wouldn't permit it.

 

Anyhow, this was me, the science driven achiever or so I thought.  What does any of this have to do with art, well here's how.  When I went to college, within my first semester I was bored.  Science, though fascinating bored me.  What I enjoyed was communication and I joined clubs like gospel choir, dance, etc.  I joined things that fed into my artistic side and that made me happy but I never thought about pursuing a degree in it, plus because of my background my parents were not going to have it.  It just wasn't what children of West African parents did.  Believe me, it was a battle not worth fighting.  Sadly, I continued in science to the point of convincing myself that studying genetics and going into research would help... though I really liked genetics, I was lying to myself and God knew it.  So what did He do... He literally left me in a place where I could no longer continue college because of family and financial problems.  I came back home not knowing what to do and what to make of my life.  I really hit a brick wall and this time, there was no way around it at all.

 

I worked for over 2 years with no direction and somehow in this time my artistic desires started to arise.  I began writing poetry more.  It started in high school because of one of my English teachers but I continued, secretly while going through college.  I began singing in a Christian group and we would travel to different churches, events, and venues and I l loved it.  I even started a dance ministry for the youth in my church.  Then I remember being at my younger cousin's house one day and she was flipping through a bridal magazine fantasizing about her wedding day and what dress to wear.  As she picked a dress that she liked, out of nowhere I told her why that dress wouldn't be flattering for her body type and what dress would look better on her.  She understanding and simultaneously perplexed simply looked at me and asked why I wasn't in fashion.  That question was the beginning of my reintroduction to the arts. 

 

Such a simple question but I didn't have an answer.  I couldn't give a reason to why I wasn't pursuing fashion.  I was always particular about what I wore and knew what I wanted even at a young age.  I remember dragging my mother from store to store looking for the perfect 8th grade banquet outfit.  I didn't want to be like everyone else.  I wanted espadrilles and a linen outfit.  I think back at times where I wanted something specific, not so much out there but just my own, I had a need to express myself differently and was not satisfied until I accomplished it.  I remember designing my senior prom dress in my mind.  I could see the soft purple color, the mini train, and the flowing chiffon but being disappointed because I couldn't get it made.  So when that question arose, I didn't have an answer better yet, I didn't have an excuse.  What did I do after that?  I decided to pursue my passion and go to school for fashion.  What a 180 degree turn from being a genetic doctor.  Funny though, my mother was down for my cause.  So I moved to Florida and pursued my degree in fashion design and graduated. 

 

See this is all interesting because I now, over a decade later am still just getting to a place to understand and accept more so that I am artistic.  Yes, I have my geeky side and I love that to but exploring my artsy side hasn't been easy.  I've tried keeping it structured and many a times down play it as well.  I tell myself and many others that I like that business side of fashion.  I like the behind the scenes, which I do.  I tell people that I am more business minded, which is partially true because I do see strategies and systems.  I've kept myself in this nice neat box which fits me, my family, my culture, and sadly enough society to believe that I am more business savvy then artistic when the reality is that I am both.  But truthfully speaking, I love the artistic side of me.  It brings me peace.  I'm at home when I'm creating and sewing.  I'm at home writing, journaling, or writing poetry.  It does something to me.  I love expressing myself in an artistic manner. 

 

I've not wanted to come clean with this or really admit this to myself because like I said before "I'm not the artistic one in my family."  However that statement is rendering itself to be a lie and God is patiently showing me this.  Even now as I write, I have memories of me watching TLC and HGTV because I loved seeing the design process, whether it would be a make over of a person or the interior of a home.  It really spoke to me.  I wondered where this artistic person came from in me but it's quite easy to trace, see every year when I was in elementary school and even into middle school my mother would sew a one of a kind dress for picture day and every year I received plenty of compliments from the other kids mothers who just adored my dress and were shockingly surprised upon asking where I got it at, I would reply that my mother made it. 

 

My mother was a great seamstress and still is.  You see, my mother not only sews but she also knits, crochets, does needle point and macramé as well.  And she has a great green thumb.  This drawing to being artistic is not just a matriarchal aspect but it also comes from my father.  He is not so much the drawer by my dad is more of a technical artisan.  He created and designed the blueprints for our house back in Cameroon.  All the furniture in our house in Africa, he designed and got made and just like my mom, he's an amazing gardener as well.  He would grow everything and together because of them, I understood the execution, creativity, and function of a farm.  Plus it helps that both of my parents are excellent cooks.  Whenever my father got a new maid, he would teach her how to cook and not just any meals but traditional Cameroonian meals, which is no small feat, and other things alike.  So this artisan, isn't as far fetched from me as I thought it would be.

 

It's crazy that it took this long for me to realize this but like it says better late than never.  As I grow in my artistic abilities what I have had to learn is that I can create whatever it is I want to create and not have to be like everyone else.  So designing and making jewelry out of Ankara fabric, creating interior home goods, writing poetry, and just writing however I feel is what is great about this because there is no specific formula to art.  That's what makes it art.  It can take on an organic function all its own self.  But what I find to be the greatest thing is that it is a reflection of God because He is the best artist I know.  Just look at the world around us from savannah, to the mountains, to outer space.  It's all art and it's all good.  So though my fear has definitely kept me back from sometime now, I think I'm ready to finally come out of my artistic closet and just say that I am an artist and there is nothing wrong with that.  I feel like I'm at an AA(Artist Anonymous) meeting: "Hi, my name is Fulei and I'm an artist."

 



Then God looked over all he had made, and he saw that it was very good!

Genesis 1:31a

Weak

I'm weak.  I'm not as strong a people make me out to be.  I mean honestly, I don't know what makes others say that about me.  I am weak and really more so tired!  I hear a lot about people saying they're tired and just need sleep but I'm talking beyond just the physical capacity of being tired.  You know.... that tired that sleep can't seem to fix.  It's that tired where you just don't know what to do.  I've been physically tired because of running around so much, not enough time to get done everything and you just crash.  And then if you've been like me, spiritually tired where your body is fine but your spirit needs some time to reconnect and recharge.  Get things back in order.  But have you ever been in a place where you are both simultaneously?????  That's where I am!  It's a hard place to be in.  You are physically exhausted but you have nothing spiritually to connect you or rejuvenate you.  You feel like your stuck..... you question everything, you question your existence, you question your purpose, you even question your living..... def not an easy spot to be in.  You want for things to change but you don't know how.... You know or at least believe you were made for more.  You just want a straight answer for all the mess and crap you've gone through that has brought you here.  I mean maybe you don't but I know I do.  I want to know the who, what, where, when and why.

It's in these sacred spaces that I have to turn to Christ and look at Him like a little girl just wanting some understanding.  I look up to Him like as though I'm sitting on His lap, with a teddy bear in tow, and eyes big and wide open just wanting to know, why?  Not me screaming why, but a soft whisper.  With tears trailing down my face on either side, not mad or upset just longing.  Longing for an answer that would make sense to everything that is happening.  Then He does something so different me makes me remember my oldest brother, a conversation we had..... it makes me laugh, then like clock work cry.... more tears, He makes me think about mother and how she loves me.... I mean how she sooooo loves me, she would sacrifice and has sacrificed me, how whenever I got home from the hospital she was there with me, her presence casting it's unconditional love on me.... Then He made me think of my 2 closets girlfriends and at times one would just come and jump on me and hug me just because she loved me and how the other one would sit with me and encourage me to live.... to not be afraid and make me smile and show me to just live!  

With tears steadily flowing down my face, I look up and He smiles.  He really doesn't say anything but smiles at me and for whatever reason, it works.  I know it will all be ok.  No matter how tired, how at times I feel like Paul in Philippians where he tells the chrisitians that he would like to die to with Christ.  I understand.  I totally understand.  However, Paul comes back and says that it's better for him to stay and do what God has called him to.  Christ points me back to His scripture and shows me in that moment that though my fears be valid, He's more valid than any of that put together.  Honestly, He reminds me that He loves me.  That I am His child and He loves me.  That alone gives me strength and purpose.  

I am writing this on my front porch where I have been watching people for a good part of the day wondering what they're thinking and really thinking if they know that the bottom line of the gospel is love.  Not all these other things we like to attach to it but simply 'God Loves You!'  I know I constantly forget this... God loves me!!!  This is my purpose it's to show how much God loves His people, His creation, His masterpiece!  It's at these times when I'm purely empty that no matter what questions or misunderstandings and wanting to knows I have that my strength is regained, sitting on His lap, looking up into His eyes, with my teddy bear in tow and see His unconditional Love through His hands, the scars and the look He gives me, telling me, "I LOVE YOU!"

TKO

I'm a part of a leadership training course at my church/community and man, did I ever get a major gut check last night.  I mean, it was straight to the heart type of class last night.  It felt as though at one point I was in the room by myself and our teacher was speaking directly to me. Smh...... I felt that knot start to well up in my throat, my heart was like Nascar and my gut was doing Jet Lee stunts all at once.  Tears were on the verge of flowing down the well trodden path.  So you're wondering what was it that brought me to this place?  Well, let's just say that my/our concept of leadership in humanity is all jacked up!  We have this idea to look for people with natural leadership qualities and make them head's of businesses, corporations, organizations, institutions, groups, schools and even churches.  We think that they are the ones who have the ability to lead us best to whatever our endeavor is.  I mean, I thought so to.  I always thought about whatever job I got to move up the ladder.  I knew I could lead, that I was more than capable of bringing in results, making things happen and honestly, being in charge.  This was always a motive of mine no matter where I worked.  Gain management experience and continue to move up from there.

Well last night I got a very rude awakening.  One that almost knocked me out!  We read Phil. 2:3-11 which talks about the attitude of Christ.  Honestly, I've read this passage before.  I understood that we should think about others more than ourselves - the 'Humility' factor and that we should act like Jesus.  But what I wasn't ready for was the depth of character and attitude that Paul was asking us to be.  The real, true epitome of Christ!  To know that Jesus is all man and all God was something I understood but to really understand why He did what He did was and is revolutionary.  To read that Christ became a servant and not just any servant but in translation a servant really meaning a slave.(Look it up in the Greek if you don't believe me)  He became a slave, not to man but to His father and all the implications that it implies blew my mind.  I mean why, how, really??????  That's too deep for me.  I felt like I was drowning for a moment trying to get my footing, forgetting that I was way too off shore to touch the ground.  So I remembered, lay back and float.  I had to and I still am.  

This concept, this notion; the reality of Jesus becoming a slave to His father in order to do His bidding is really what this was about.  Yet Jesus was the epitome of what true leadership is!  Let that sink in for a minute.... I know I had to.  This passage was telling me what a true servant looks like... a slave to the Father.  Already, for those who are black, like myself, here in America or just about anywhere in the western hemisphere, this doesn't sit well.  We understood what slavery did and what it meant.  No rights, no choice & above all no FREEDOM!  This was and still is a hard pill to swallow.  To know that Jesus is asking us to become slaves is hard.  We naturally want to fight, rebel, run away and say 'Heck naw!' to that sort of idea and look at the person like the audacity and gall they have to even ask you such a thing.  It hurts, it's deep and partially humiliating.  But to Jesus it is the very thing that He did being all God and all man to serve His Father.

So then what does this have to do with what I first stated about the types of leaders we initially look for, well it has everything to do with it.  We look for the wrong things and for the wrong motives.  I did.  I wanted to be a leader because it was what I thought I should do.  It came naturally.  What I didn't understand was that a true leader needs to become a slave to the Father and serve whomever they are leading and think of them 1st and foremost.  To the point where you rarely think of yourself.  It's called serving.  Serving without motive other than to please your Father, God.  That's what I didn't understand.  Jesus looks for servants first whom can be shaped into leaders.  And for those of use with leadership qualities, it's a bit harder because we have to learn to serve 1st before leading.  It seems to go against our very nature but in reality this is what Jesus wants.  See I had it all backwards, which most of us do.  Really, the world does.  We want leaders who will serve but not understanding that having that mindset is what leads to acting like a demagogue.  It is always about yourself and what you can get from it.  It is about personal gain in some form or fashion.  It's not pure service.  There's always some reward of personal agenda behind this thinking.  It's not Jesus oriented... it lacks humility.  It's vanity in its most secretive and poisonous form.  

This was me!!!  This was my thinking... I didn't want to move up the corporate structure to serve others, I did it because I wanted it for myself.  I wanted to be successful and knew I could to.  I wanted for someone to pat me on my back.  I didn't purely do this to serve others.  I was making it a personal vanity.  I definitely wasn't exhibiting humility.  Phil. 2 called me out, plain and simple and it hurt!  With every truth that was being presented about true leadership, I hurt more. My heart sank, the pangs became that much more real, my spirit writhed within me, my soul couldn't justify itself anymore and began to withdraw itself.  It was too much, it was real, it was truth... unadulterated absolute truth.  I was on the verge of becoming a demagogue.  Oh, the mentality of it all.  It couldn't be more real than that.  I wanted to break down and cry... 'God forgive me... I am so selfish and wretched.  I don't deserve to be a leader.'  This is a hard truth to swallow.  Then for Jesus to say in Luke 22, when the disciples started fussing about who the greatest was, that this is how the gentiles act but not so for you.  He shut down their arguments.  He stopped the lies and the continuation of a fallacy that had lived for so long.  This was something they were used to, becoming a leader and bossing people around in its simplicity.  Having a personal agenda covering it up in the name of God and thinking it was ok.  Nope! Not to Jesus.  This was the very thinking that He did not want us to follow.  Jesus plainly stated that in order to be great you MUST serve.  There was no room for error here.  Just as He came and served yet is still the greatest leader there ever was, so we must do the same.  Remember serving meant taking the place of a slave but in order to please God.

This is why last night my concept of leadership totally got knocked out like a Tyson fight.  I started to really understand that to lead, I must serve but my Father.  It comes through taking care of those He tells me to.  The hungry, the orphan, the widows, even more plainly those whom you probably don't think twice about.  Your friends, your family, that annoying co-worker.  Yea, true humility.  Doing things without a personal agenda.  I know for all of us natural leaders this is not an easy task but the great thing is that it's not impossible either.  We have the choice to choose humility and become a servant to others.  God doesn't shove this down our throat.  We can learn how to serve with pure motives, please God.  Nothing more, nothing less.  So today and really for the rest of my life I pray, 'God make me a servant', because that knock out makes it worth it all.