Tuesday, August 30, 2005

A bitch heard Gospel music in my head this morning...

A bitch was thrilled to hear from Dixie that BarefootCajun is okay. My ass was worried! This bitch hopes all my fellow bloggers in Katrina's way or with loved ones in that heifer's way have heard good news.

Katrina is now doing her best to establish her place in history. A bitch was horrified by the images and stories of survival and death. In moments of great suffering a bitch thinks of my own family…how would my ass feel…what would this bitch do…why does shit like this have to happen?

It may surprise some of my readers that a bitch woke up with Gospel music in my head…

2 cups coffee with 1% organic milk, Splenda, 1 Claritin, 2 Sudafed, a frown and cigs…

After you’ve done all you can…you just stand…
A bitch grew up attending a traditional black Baptist church. Yeah, it’s shocking! An understanding of personal responsibility and compassion formed my morals, even though very few people in a bitch’s world demonstrated those traits. My childhood church was not obsessed with what others did, but chose to focus on what you would do. Church was a forum to explore that element of personal responsibility and to be infused with the positive encouragement to follow your convictions. That encouragement came from the music…Gospel music…deep soul wrenchingly beautiful songs that still help my ass cope and stay inspired.

Church has changed and a bitch no longer attends...unless it's a gathering of the United Church of Bitchitude and Latter Day Drunks. Usually my ass has service in the cathedral of my mind...where a bitch is welcome and the music is the sermon.

Child you just stand!
A bitch still believes that all things happen for a reason. A bitch has faith. Whenever something happens my ass tries to see the challenge set before me. And then a bitch takes a stand. A song will simply enter my mind and the lyrics will say go on…move forward…stand. Sometimes a bitch will sing it out loud, but regardless it is there. It is my power not my burden. It provides the perspective not judgement. It feeds my hope and faith in the meaning behind so much pain, hate and oppression. A bitch wishes religion would act more like the music produced to honor it...or is it that musicians understand religion better than preachers...or better yet, could it be that musical preachers just get it?

May His peace be with you ‘till we meet again…
When my father died a bitch was devastated and shocked. There are no words to describe what a person goes through when they loose someone they love. As my sister and this bitch traveled to Chicago to bury my beloved father music filled my soul…not sad pitiful music…not dark mournful music. It was the music of life and it was exactly what this bitch needed.

Till we reach that distant shore...

When a bitch watched that casket lower into the ground…

And we study war no more…

When this bitch knew my ass could no longer endure my mother’s instability in my life…

May He give me strength to endure…

When my ass had to comfort a dear friend who was forced to present papers to enforce his presence in his husband’s hospital room after a stroke…

Till we meet again…

When my ass watched in horror as the world went to war…

We will meet again…

When nature reminds us that none of us are promised tomorrow…

A bitch believes in a higher power and that it speaks to us and guides us through this thing called life. The Devine One was singing Gospel music to a bitch this morning…and this bitch once again found comfort in a the face of devastation.

8 comments:

disgruntled said...

I loved this post...

You got one thing right though. The churches of the past are vastly different than those out there today.

Just yesterday I read an article about arrogant ass (yeah I said it) Bishop Eddie Long and his mega church in Atlanta. It's a nice piece but an awful reality and even more saddening that he (and his preacher pals) has the audicity to say half the stuff he's said about churches, compensation, and other religious aspects.

dmfinny said...

Funny how we walk parallel paths... in my non-blogging life, I'm a gospel keyboardist and choir director.

Preachers don't like to admit it; probably because it would take away their spotlight, but music touches the heart long before the word does.

There is indeed a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole.

CrankyProf said...

For some of those people, God is all they have left.

But God always provides, and only gives us challenges we can overcome! (God just has more faith in us than we have in ourselves, in most cases!)

Your post was beautiful and eloquent. Bravo, yet again, to the ABB!

thatfarmgirl said...

Thank you for this insight. I am from New Orleans...my family is still there...immediate family is safe, but we cannot reach others. I am always moved by what you post and you are among those I count as my life's blessings.

Dixie said...

You've touched me today. I've been so heartsick over the idea of entire cities of people - not just New Orleans but Biloxi and Gulfport and all those others bitty towns down there - having nothing! Nothing! I'm trying to find that dawn of hope in all of this.

And I have to hold on to the idea that God will comfort those people and will heal their hearts and spirits. That they'll have the strength to keep going.

Sangroncito said...

This is a comforting post on a stormy, dark day. Thanks.

Qivan said...

A bitch wishes religion would act more like the music produced to honor it..

I love this, Bitch.

lasomniloquy said...

your post is beautiful