Posts Tagged ‘Vicky’

by Vicky Nabors

On Monday, while driving Dee (my fiancée) to campus for her morning classes, I was hit by a thought that touched me deeply. Jesus gave his life for me: Victoria Lynne Nabors. And what’s great about this thought is that he didn’t make this heart-wrenching sacrifice because I was male/female, black/white, straight/gay, fat/skinny, sinner/saint, or achieved/under-achieved. He gave his life for me because I was worthy. I didn’t even have to prove myself as worthy by achieving great feats as I’ve had to do most of my life; what an awesome feeling.

I’ve always believed that every interaction, situation, or event is a learning opportunity; and that we’re never too old to learn. Therefore, this Lenten blogging project has taught me the importance of placing life’s pains at God’s feet; after forgiveness is achieved. And even though I have always had a strong determination to stay focused on God, this six week journey thorough the wilderness with Jesus has created in me a higher level of awareness in how I achieve this goal.

As an individual whose characteristics include: Black American, female, butch lesbian, over-weight, eccentric creative/intellectual personality, etc., I know my life will continue to be filled with injustices. I’ll be misunderstood, disrespected, and mistreated; but so was Jesus! I am deeply humbled and grateful to Jesus as I’m reminded of the symbolic importance of this Lenten season. It’s about love, unconditional love! And when I look at the bigger picture of my life, I can see how the weights of my past have prevented me from growing closer to God. What a wonderful feeling it is to step out of this experience feeling like one of a multitude of beautiful bright lights shinning in God’s universe; knowing I am equally loved.

As Pastor Kate said, it’s bitter sweet to internalize how my savior was brutally slain, but then rose from the dead that my sins might be forgiven. My emotions here are profoundly unspeakable.

I’ll close with a prayer of thanks:

“Holy Creator God of light, I am most thankful to you for providing me this spiritual growth opportunity. Thank you for loving me when I could not love myself, thank you for hearing my years of prayers for deliverance from the pains that wrecked my soul, for drying my tears, and providing comfort and guidance when I was lost and felt that every part of me was wrong. Father, I thank you for not letting me fall into the darkness of defeat when I most wanted to. Thank you for showing me the pure trueness of unconditional love and self-acceptance. And Lord, I am most grateful to you God for guiding me to Holy Covenant United Methodist Church … I feel reborn and renewed in your light. Thank you Jesus for giving your life for me – Hallelujah!”

by Vicky Nabors

I have a passion for writing, but writing my blog entry this week has been difficult. I had nothing to say, I’m honestly tired of blogging. It feels like I’m beating a dead horse. Why, because my Lenten journey started at a depth never expected, and then quickly traveled to painful places never imagined. I’m tired of talking about it now, and am simply coasting to the end of my wilderness journey with a lighter load and a smile. It’s a beautiful thing because the sun is shining in my soul.

Praise be to God.

Did I stop cursing, H*## NO! It was never my intention to stop cursing. In my professional area (human communications), it’s believed that words have no meaning until meaning is assigned to them (via intentions). And like most folks, I use strong language when feeling strong emotions. “Fudge” just doesn’t cut when I’m feeling … ahhh!!! That would be like asking for a cup of mild roast coffee when I’m actually feeling a double shot of whiskey.

So, the source of my strong emotions was my true focus. Therefore, I was not giving up anything, I was taking on. Some question I asked myself was: What really contributed to my overwhelming feeling of anger, darkness, frustration, and defeat? Why couldn’t I find happiness in my soul? And how were these debilitating feelings preventing me from getting closer to God?

In an amusing way, I feel like I’ve done a bit of psychotherapy on myself. Guess I should send myself a bill for my services – LOL.

I know I previously stated how difficult it was to share my personal reflection during my Lenten walk in the wilderness; but I was just posturing. People are so deeply private with how they suffer. One thing I’ve learned in my life is that human suffering is more alike than different; but in sharing we support, learn, and heal. However, I am selective in how and where I openly share my struggles; don’t want to run people away.

So here I am today, a week and a half away from the end of my wilderness journey. I can only share my exhilaration with you. You see, I was born into prayer – a PK (pastor’s kid). My elder family members (grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts) modeled prayer to the younger family members morning, noon, and night, during prayer services, Bible study, church services, you name it … we prayed. As a result, my cousins and I mimicked what we saw and heard, and eventually developed our own spiritual awareness of a higher power. Thus, I’ve enjoyed a close relation with God my entire life; he has been my constant comforter. Still, I suspected that something was keeping me from getting even closer – that pure happiness. Got it! Hmph, guess I actually did have something to blog about this week … go figure!

In closing, I want to share a wonderful celebration song; I love it! It’s my sister’s choir in Grand Rapid, MI singing behind Ken Reyonolds as he records his CD, “Great Things.” If you watch carefully, you’ll see my sister. She’s the first extreme close up shot of the singers on mic (wearing all black by band).

Enjoy and God Bless.

Listen to “Great Things.”

by Vicky Nabors

from the song “I Give Myself Away,” By William McDowell

Chorus:
I give myself away
I give myself away
So You can use me
I give myself away
I give myself away
So You can use me

Bridge:
My life is not my own
To you I belong
I give myself, I give myself to you

This song has been my testament this week. I’ve traveled a million miles over the course of this Lenten season; walking in the wilderness with Jesus has been amazing. And what’s even more amazing is how my exploring the underpinnings of my colorful language has systematically resulted in a spiritual breakthrough. “Search me, Know me; Practicing intimacy with God.” I’ve never been so openly intimate with my personal life as I have in this blog. I have no regrets.

I also see how the focus of my blog has been more intense than some of the others. Well…good! I’m sure someone has been able to relate to my position of standing on the outside looking in. Someone has had all these pent-up emotions of injustice and fear weighing them down, and wished desperately that God have mercy on them. I’ve prayed that prayer for years while standing in the distance watching everyone else live. I didn’t understand what I was doing wrong, I’d done everything that society and my family expected of me (except be heterosexual – LOL). So I should have achieved my goals at this point in my life. Instead, I’ve slowly isolated myself because being alone doesn’t hurt; but it’s quite lonely – especially as an empty nester.

Thanks to the persistence of the Communications Committee and Pastor Kate, I agreed to take on this Lent journey openly. I’ve shared my most personal thoughts as related to my daily prayers, journaling, meditations, and reflections. And God has revealed my core foundation of fear; resulting from all of my unfortunate experiences that center on rejection. Unbelievable! I thought I was so confident and fearless, because everyone said I was. “#@%T!” I hate it when I think I know something about myself, and then discover that I really don’t. Fuel for colorful language.

Oh Lord, “I give myself away, so You can use me. My life is not my own, to you I belong …”

Father I pray you wrap me in your arms as I step forward out of isolation and into life.
Amen.

Listen to this song here.

by Vicky Nabors

For the past week I’ve been haunted by, and pre-occupied with, the concept of awareness (I removed my rose colored glasses). I know that awareness is the key to maintaining peace at the core of my soul because awareness has presented itself to me many times throughout my life. And during those moments, I’d become conscious of many broken or unknown parts of my whole. Unfortunately, awareness is fleeting. It’s a state of alertness that is hard to retain; too much external and internal static in my mind. But, when I’m tuned into this higher sense of knowing it’s always life altering and liberating. But on the flip side, the reality of being 100% alert can be frightening, confusing, or even embarrassing.

During this Lenten season, I once again have become aware of many hidden aspects of all that I am, ‘The Vickster.’ And it is clear that God is orchestrating the timing and return of my awakening. It truly feels like I’m sitting in a classroom as He lectures from the textbook of my life. And since I’ve always been a good student, I’m paying close attention as my Creator the Ultimate Professor speaks.

This week, He focused on a new chapter from the textbook of my life. In it, I was made aware of something that caused me to question my position. I’ve refused to read the Bible for most of my adult life. But after some deep reflection and prayer, I sensed it was time to reconsider. I don’t have to discuss how deeply I’ve been hurt by people quoting Bible scriptures to condemn or oppress me. But I’ll tell you that it was so bad, I had no choice but to separate myself from it and the church (the only other recourse was death). I just wanted to be left alone. So, it stands to reason why I haven’t read the Bible in years. Still, this recent awareness, as presented to me by my Ultimate Professor, had me squirming in my seat uncomfortably – fear. I’m Biblephobic. I have a fear of the Bible.

My admitted awareness of this Biblephobia speaks to deeper fears and confusion. Twenty or more years ago, I grew afraid of studying the Bible any further because certain passages supported the notion that I was an abomination. I was confused – I didn’t know how to be anyone other than … me. And, I was angry because I didn’t ask to be born different. Ironically, being born into a family with lots of ministers and pastors, including my pastor mom, meant I lived and breathed the Bible. I learned the Bible, and I quoted the Bible. This book is not a stranger to me. It’s just that when I came into my own as a young adult, I felt like it betrayed me. I was confused and grew to fear it’s presence in my life.

This week’s awareness has alerted me to a recent change in my life. I have a new support system that sheds new light on that which I feared; and I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful that feels. Some years ago, I’d concluded that ‘God don’t make no junk,’ and that He was blessing me abundantly. And then I learned how to center myself in him daily; He was all I had. I never thought it possible to align myself with a (diverse) religious group who felt the same way. I especially never thought I’d find myself listening to sermon after sermon with a great sense of fulfillment (always hungry for more). I’ve always hated sermons, and avoided them at all cost. They represented the ugliness and pain of that book.

Awareness – I’m not going to say that my Biblephobia is no more as trust is a slow process; but, I am going to take that first step this week. I’ll let my Ultimate Professor show me where to start.

Amen.

by Vicky Nabors

This is my first time ever actively participating in the Lenten season tradition, and it has been a deeply rewarding and humbling experience. Walking in the wilderness with Jesus, and aligning myself to his experiences during those 40 days and 40 nights, are strengthening my resolve. It seems like the most difficult part of my journey occurred over the first two weeks. Not to say that I won’t be challenged going forward, because I’ve only begun to tap into the source of my colorful language. And, I’m happy today that the intense meltdowns that became a part of my days at the start of my Lenten journey have waned. I was getting on my own nerves with all that bawling. No kidding! Now, I anxiously move on to all the tomorrows of this wonderful season. I love anything that results in my positive growth, as I’m a student of life. I can actually feel it already; I think I’m a bit taller.

So I was having a little chat with God the other day. And during this chat, I was keenly aware of all the invisible wounds on my body and in my soul; so I asked Him, “Why?” Well, let’s just say His response was, “Why not!” So many clichés can be used here like: “Those things that don’t kill you will only make your stronger!” Or, “No pain, no gain!” Blah blah blah. I will refrain from the use of clichés, because the answer really doesn’t matter. I’ve concluded that it’s not for me to understand the many aspects of my pain at this point in my life; only to believe and have hope. It’s easier that way. My favorite book supports that sentiment with this statement, “Whatever has happened to you has already happened. The important question is … what now?” (Wherever You Go There You Are by Jon Kabut-Zinn). The “what now,” part of this statement centers on release and focusing on today.

Forgiveness for me was always a given. It was a practice I learned as a child from my mom. She always said I’d feel better if I forgave other kids for doing bad stuff to me; so I did, and she was right! As a result, I’ve forgiven many offenders over the course of my life, learned from those events, and moved on. What I never thought about was actively giving the pain from those events to my Father in Heaven, in addition to giving forgiveness to others. It makes lots of sense when I think about it now. In the past, whenever I forgave a person for some injustice, I experienced immediate spiritual and emotional gratification. But over time, the pain of that injustice would come back and haunt me. What I understand today, is that to be totally liberated of emotional pains, one must first forgive, and then give the resulting pain to the Holy Creator. It’s a two-part process. Awareness with knowledge is a beautiful thing.

I’m sure my blog from last week generated a variety of emotions in you, the reader. Well, it is my unfortunate story. Know that the purpose of my sharing was not to generate sympathy, place blame, or discontent. I shared because it’s a story about hidden pain, and the effects of that pain on the direction of one’s life. Unfortunately, too many of us can identify with this debilitating state of being; hidden pain. Pastor Kate talks about this subject quite often. Your story may be family dysfunction or frustrations, not fitting in, health struggles, rejection, etc. Whatever the case, the effects of hidden pain will always have a negative impact our happiness.

So, as I traveled through week two of Lent, I was forced to face my hidden pains head on. I’ve learned a lot about myself that I was unaware of. The most powerful awareness of self was discovering that I’ve been viewing the world through my anger and pain born in the 1960s. I thought I was looking at the world as it is; but I was not. This coming week, my goal is to remove those lenses…frightening. Overall, this Lenten journey is feeling like freedom.

by Vicky Nabors

I was really excited when an old friend found me on Facebook this week. She has a unique connection to my life and my “herstory.” I first met Carol when I moved into an apartment over her in Evanston. She and I both attended the church that owned our building. And then, we quickly discovered that we attended the same Catholic school in Oak Lawn, IL during the 1960’s; she was in my older brother’s class, and her younger sister was in my class. My family was one of only three black families attending that school; we weren’t really welcome in that community during that time.

I’d lost contact with Carol in 2000 after I fled from that church community with a broken heart. You know the story: “no gays or lesbians affirmed here.” For eight years, all of my gifts and skills were constantly called upon at that church. I gave of myself gladly to the glory of God. Then everything changed when a lay minister friend became pastor, and she betrayed my trust. My value plummeted. Carol had no idea why I vanished, but I learned that she and other members also left that church shortly thereafter for the same reasons. (Bravo!)

The irony of my friend’s reappearance during this first week of Lent is nothing short of amazing. I was chugging through the first few days of my journey, and had given great thought to the “why’s” of my colorful language. (Of course, beyond what is already known; we curse when we’re frustrated, angry, or excited.) After my friend and I shared an in-depth conversation to catch up, I immediately understood God’s purpose for bringing her back into my life. She was the key that connected me to my past pains. Carol had ironically been present when two major events occurred in my life: racial violence and injustice during the 1960’s in Chicago, and my heart-breaking split with the church in 2000. For some strange reason, Carol revisited those painful moments during our conversation on Friday, and I’ve been an emotional mess ever since.

I sense my Lenten blogging project must now shift its focus from giving up profanity, to giving up all my pain – conscious and unconscious – to God. This means my blog participation has taken a very sensitive turn. I’ve tried to write this entry several times and trashed each one. It’s very personal and very painful; I don’t honestly want to share. But after talking to Pastor Kate on Sunday, I decided to step out on faith.

I realize that I have all the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, which fuels my colorful language. I had no idea I was still harboring the pain, fear, confusion, and anger from something that occurred over 40 years ago. You see, I was 8-years-old when I watched while my father and uncle were brutally beaten with billy clubs, and spit on by those who were sworn to protect them. Afterwards, they had black eyes and huge lumps all over their heads. I can still hear my mother and aunt’s screams and my sibling cries for help as we watched in horror. This scene was repeated two additional times with my father and uncles. It was a horrible scene to watch. My eight year old mind couldn’t under why the police kept beating my daddy and my uncles. We were concluding family outings, and my young father and uncle were laughing and rough housing in good humor when the police situation occurred. But then, it was an era of racial violence and police brutality.

A year later, my brothers, sister, and I were also beaten by our principal/nun, locked in dark closets by a teacher/nun, and had our lunch spit on by white classmates, all at a Catholic school in Oak Lawn. My parents were seeking a better life for us. They were “Chasers of the Great White Flight” in Chicago. I clearly remember the terror of the day MLK was murdered because all the black kids in my upper middle-class neighborhood were kept home from school. Our parents feared for our safety. I remember hiding with my brother in the stairway as we listened to the elders of my family discuss the potential dangers of being in public and traveling on the bus. I remember feeling confused and afraid for my grandmother when it was agreed that she could have safe passage because she was very fair in complexion with red hair (her father white Irish, her mother biracial Irish). But my other family members were advised to only travel by car in groups. I just couldn’t understand why white people hated me and my family because of our skin color. It was a lot for a little kid to digest.

Today, I understand this to be the core of my pain. And, this is also where feelings of unworthiness were first given birth. These feelings were later reinforced by a multitude of rejections over the course of my adult life such as having an eccentric personality (high IQ) and a homosexual orientation, among other things. As a result, my anger and pain is deeper than I could have ever imagined. I’ve always loved all people, but I have not always been loved. I must now give this pain to my Creator. Therefore, I will seek my Father’s guidance and comfort as I try to figure out how to achieve this end. It’s extremely difficult to “go there” as I’m reduced to tears each time.

This will be my re-focused Lenten journey.

“As I look across the rivers of my life,
where ever they may go, where ever they have been.
Lord I give them all to you, I place them at your feet.
I give them all to you;
I give them all to you.”

Amen

by Vicky Nabors

I am no different from other people in that I feel deeply, and these feelings are often expressed through colorful language, primarily when I’m experiencing negative emotions. This habit started during my early teen years, and as we all know, habits are hard to break. As I have pondered this blogging project, I realized the Lent season would provide me with a great opportunity to challenge myself in a way that would move me closer to God.

And I love moving closer to God … it’s the ultimate “feel good/high!”

What I seek to do is sort of layered yet simple. I want to give up profanity. But don’t think for one moment that what I seek to do is as simple as exchanging a curse word for a more acceptable word like “fudge.”

You see, it’s more about meaning/intentions versus feelings versus being God centered. It’s about not having expectations of others, and not judging others. It’s about living in the moment and loving. It’s about walking in the light of God and letting Him deal with the short-comings of others. It’s about giving The Creator all my pains and frustrations so I no longer have to express them through profanity. I sense that when this level of spiritual enlightenment is achieved, life shifts for me and colorful verbiage vanishes. Another goal of this spiritual challenge during Lent is physical health. The use of profanity indicates the presence of stress, and stress weakens the body. I’ve asked my Father to walk with me throughout this journey.

If you’re wondering how I plan to do this, awareness is my method. During Lent, I plan to stay focused on when and how I use these colorful words. After each event, I plan to do the following: react, re-center, recreate, release. First, I will accept the fact that I reacted to something consciously or subconsciously by using colorful language. Next, I will re-center myself in God’s love and remember that He is always active in my life. Then, I will recreate that situation in my mind with a positive outcome. And finally I will release the situation, learn and grow from it. As we know, daily practice is the key to developing useful habits.