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Woman, God’s Most Precious Creation

In Genesis 2:7, God formed Adam out of the dust of the earth. He blew into his nostrils,
and he became a living person. But, a few verses later in Genesis 2:21-23, God was a little bit more creative when He made the woman. He put Adam into a deep sleep, took one of his ribs and created His greatest work of art, in my opinion, the woman. Have you ever wondered why He didn’t just grab more dust and create the woman as He did the man? I believe He took His time sculpting the body that would be the carrier and deliverer of life. Our bodies are a work of art, custom made.
A woman’s body can carry one or more babies at one time while nurturing and stretching to make room for them! It manages to carry human life for nine whole months, just the right amount of time for a baby to be healthy enough to survive outside of the mother’s body. The woman’s body is so complex, yet miraculous. Its functions can only be the work of God.
Looking at my body the way God sees it changed my entire perspective.
We need to value ourselves more. We need to value our bodies. We need to value the
most precious thing in our bodies, our birth canal. It is both an entry and an exit. Two bodies are made into one flesh via entry into the birth canal, and life is brought into the world through the birth canal.
When you see it for how precious it truly is, you may never allow a man who is not
your husband to see or enter into that precious place again.
*This is an excerpt from my book, Pain, Promiscuity, Purpose: From Mess To Ministry.
It is my story of how I turned my pain and the mistakes from my past into PURPOSE. 
Love, Mizz K ♥
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Does It Hurt Worse To Lose Your Mother As A Child Or As An Adult?

Does it hurt worse to lose your mother as a child or as an adult?

I know that may sound like a strange question to ask, but I was sitting here pondering on it.  Such a thought may even sound depressing. However, I am not depressed nor am I sad. But after experiencing losing a mother at ten years old and then again at 27 years old, I sometimes wonder which hurt worse. I remember being traumatized after losing my mother suddenly to AIDS when I was ten years old. Up until she died, I had been attached to her hip. I still slept on top of her most nights. In the first chapter of my book, Pain, Promiscuity, Purpose: From Mess To Ministry, I write about that experience and how for a long time I thought she was coming back. At that time, I had been learning about Jesus’ resurrection in church, and I had believed my mother was also going to come back as Jesus did. Learning I was mistaken and that my mother was actually not coming back was somewhat traumatizing all over again.

Once my mother died, her sister, my Aunt Tricia became my mother. She was my mother until I was 27 years old when she died. It was like deja vu. The pain was unbearable. For a long time, I had to drink alcohol just about every day just to be able to sleep at night. Most mornings I woke up in tears when reality hit me that Aunt Tricia was really gone. And to be quite honest, I still have moments of disbelief, and it’s been five years. I’m still not able to put into words what losing her feels like.  I was about 12 years old when I realized I loved my Aunt Tricia. She’d been in my life all of my life as she and my mother were very close, but it was a different kind of love now that she was my mother. I write how I came to that realization in my blog post, Aunt Tricia ❤.  Before then, I was guarded with my feelings toward her. Looking back as an adult, I realize I felt like I was betraying my mother by loving Aunt Tricia. At one point I even felt like I was betraying my mother to consider that losing Aunt Tricia hurt worse than losing her.

Some days I think about my Aunt Tricia, and I burst into tears. I think losing Aunt Tricia affected me differently from how it affected me when I lost my mother because 1. I was now an adult and 2. because I had more time with her, 27 years versus ten years with my mother. But even that fact doesn’t minimize the love I have for my mother and how much I miss her. I cry sometimes thinking about her and how close we were. I cry wondering how she would be with my daughter. But I also cry thinking about how good Aunt Tricia was with my daughter. I cry wishing my mother had made it to my graduations. I cry thinking about how proud Aunt Tricia was at my graduations. I cry wondering how it would have been to grow up with my real mother. I also cry because I did grow up with a mother, and losing that relationship was devastating.
So I’ve concluded that there is no way to answer this question factually. As I wrote in, The Pain Of Losing A Mother, the pain is unbearable no matter how old you are when you lose your Mommy. Other than our love for our children, there is no greater love than the love we have for Mommy. Although I’ve tried many times to put it all into words, the best I could come up with is “ a part of me died with her. A part of my childhood is gone.” And although I’m grown and a mother myself, I sometimes miss the feeling of being someone’s “baby.”

 

Until next time,

Love, Mizz K ♥

 

 

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IMG_7269Kendra “Mizz K” Fowler is an author, poet, and blogger. Her book, “Pain, Promiscuity, Purpose: From Mess to Ministry is available on Amazon.

 

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My 2017 In Three Words: JUST THE BEGINNING

Someone asked how I would describe my 2017 in 3 words. Without even thinking, I said, “Just the beginning.”  This past year was the beginning of walking in purpose, the beginning of no longer allowing the opinions of others to hold me back, but it was also the beginning of opposition.

In Summer 2017 I published my first book, Pain, Promiscuity, Purpose: From Mess To Ministry. I had been procrastinating on that book for almost two years. I picked it up and put it down. Picked it back up. Put it back down again. But in January 2017, I decided I was not going to allow fear to keep me from walking in the purpose God had for my life. I knew He had given me the gift of inspiring others through writing, but I had been sitting on it because I was afraid. Afraid of what people might say. Afraid people wouldn’t like my writing. Afraid I would spend months writing a book nobody would read. But then God being the Father to me that He is, assured me that I am not for everybody. And that the people He has called me to will read my book, and they will be blessed by it. Once I learned I am not for everybody, it was the beginning of me not worrying about what anybody thought of me and what they thought of my writing. I realized there would be people who will read it and turn their noses up. I realized there would be people who won’t like it just because my name is on it. And it wasn’t until 2017 that I learned to be okay with that.

Once I began to use the gifts God gave me, doors started opening. Doors that I hadn’t even knocked on opened up for me. I was invited to various events to share my story and to perform Spoken Word poetry. It’s amazing how so many opportunities were birthed from an act of obedience on my part. I had been continuously hearing messages about delayed obedience being the same as disobedience. And it convicted me because I had a passion for writing and I believe God put that passion inside of me because it’s what I was SUPPOSED to be doing. I kept feeling God telling me to stay focused and write, and that once I did, I would see WHY it was so crucial that I did. Now that I’ve received many testimonials about how my book has inspired people to grow closer to God, change their lifestyles, and even write books of their own, I understand why it was meant for me to share my story. I believe it’s possible that someone else’s destiny depends on our obedience. Think about how you were first inspired to give your life to Christ or to make a change. Was it a sermon you heard? Was it a family member? Was it just a nice person who decided to share a word with you? Can you imagine what your life would be like if they had not been obedient to God’s calling? Furthermore, there just might be someone out there depending on you to do what God has called you to do.

2017 was also the beginning of opposition. I don’t think I have ever experienced as much opposition as I did in 2017. Up until late 2016, I had rarely talked about my childhood openly. But knowing I was writing a book which detailed a significant portion of my childhood, I knew I needed to start talking about it. And there were many people who were not happy about it. My father being one of them. For one year, I did not see nor talk to him. All year I mourned the loss of my father. Even though he was alive, at times it felt like I had lost him. After a couple months of calling him, trying to get him to talk to me, and writing him a letter, I gave up. And boy was it painful. Throughout the year I had countless moments of sadness and confusion, followed by anger. There were a couple of times I had to call a close friend to talk me out of going on social media and posting things I would later regret. While I was happy about all the great things going on, I cried myself to sleep some nights because of the opposition I was facing from my father and other family members. I am happy to say, though, that my father reached out to me this past Thanksgiving. It was the first time in a year that we had had a conversation. And then in December, for my daughter’s birthday, he called me and asked me to bring her to his house to get her gift. Things are not back to normal yet, but I’m happy to be back in touch with my father.

One of my very good friends reminded me that opposition was inevitable now that I was walking in my purpose. She also reminded me how the enemy would try to use whatever and whomever just to get to me. While that is very true, I’ve also realized that opposition is not always of the devil. Sometimes God will allow intense pressure while He’s molding us to be who He created us to be. It is in those trying times that our endurance and character is shaped, and we learn to rely on God entirely.

I’ve never been one to make resolutions or claim the upcoming year as “My Year.” But I can say the surface hasn’t even been scratched yet. 2017 was just the beginning of what’s to come. Be on the lookout for more books, more blog posts, and even short stories.

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Love, Mizz K ♥

 

 

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