The Waffle Prayer

Okay. Before I tell you what The Waffle Prayer is about, let me tell you what it's not about. The Waffle Prayer is not about a compartmentalization of prayer requests. Y'know? Where each request, or each kind of request, is packed neatly inside a lil space, 'til you have rows and rows of prayer requests neatly laid out, then hope that God will grant them in order of priority. No. It's not about that.

What is The Waffle Prayer about? Well, here's what happened. A few years ago, Kiki, my niece, then going on Four, came to spend a Girls' Night with me. Her parents dropped her off on the Friday afternoon. The plan was that we'd spend the night; spend all day Saturday together; I'd take her to church with me on Sunday morning, and take her back home Sunday afternoon.

We had a fun Friday night. I don't quite remember how we spent the evening before bedtime, but, I'm pretty sure it involved reading - and Dora. Much has changed since then. Let it go! Let it go! (Gee, thanks, Frozen.) Before tucking her into bed, I asked her what she'd like for breakfast in the morning. I said, "I was thinking we could have waffles!"
"Yes! Yes! Waffles! I love waffles! Let's do waffles, Aunty!"

I guess that was the best idea, ever!

Anyway, come morning - and, by morning, I mean waking-up-at-5:45-on-a-Saturday-morning morning - I awoke to her shaking my shoulder, "Aunty! It's morning!"
"It's kinda early, though, don't you think?"
"No. No, it's not! The sun is up. It's light outside!"

She was right. The sun was up. It was light, outside. Who knew? She did. Apparently.

I struggled out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I was ready to start the day. Almost. I told her I was gonna take a moment to say prayers, then I'd be right with her. I took that moment and, as soon as I was done, I asked Kiki whether she had said prayers, too.

"Yes, I was praying that you would finish praying so we could go make the waffles!"

I'm still crying! Lol!!!



Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

A Frame of Reference

As I sat surrounded by members of my immediate family, aunts, uncles, and cousins, I couldn't help but think how things have changed over the years. Much has changed. And yet, so little has.

There's a line in the "Sunscreen Song" as it's popularly called, that says, "The older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young." I've loved that "song" (speech set to music, really) since it was released in the late nineties. That line, as so many others in it, rings wise.

Amidst the older folk, I thought back to my early years. Who would've thunk it? A little girl growing up in the hills of upper Clarendon in Jamaica; life taking the curves and turns it has; situations and circumstances playing out as they have, would be where she is today! The Lord has ordered my - our - steps to the present moment. So far, what a ride!

Life now is far different from those early years. But, the principles and legacy of values from those who've gone before, still stand. Whenever we get together, there are bound to be comparisons between generations as to features that bear a striking likeness - whether they be physical features or mannerisms or the way we walk or the inflections in talk. It's usually fun. They make it entertaining.

I realize I'm being vague. It's on purpose. I don't want to make this post about a series of family events. That'd be TMI. :-) Simply wanted to share that it's nice to stop and think, now and then, about where we're coming from and appreciate how far we have come. Sometimes we beat ourselves up because we haven't yet achieved this or done that. The truth is, every day is a struggle. And we're all - well, most of us, I'm wont to think - trying to make the best of it. Pretty sure we'd nod in agreement that we've come a long way and we're doing well. The late Professor Rex Nettleford once said, "We must have a frame of reference upon which to plot the new things that are upon us." How true. Those moments when we pause to reflect on our early years will help give us perspective.

The past few weeks have also given me an opportunity to serve. It's a blessing to be called upon to perform in a care-giving role; to be needed in that way and to carry out that function well. God has given me that strength and ability and it is an honour to be used in that way. As one aunt said today, "I get the feeling she enjoys doing it, you know!" I nodded in agreement, "Yes, I do, actually!" Someone once prayed for me that every thing I put my hands to will be blessed. His prayer continues to be answered in the affirmative.

What's that Bob Marley quote? "If my life a fi mi alone, mi nuh want it."


Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro

Letter to My Husband

My dearest love,

You think you know, but you have no idea, how much I love you. 

Do you know that sometimes when I wake up before you do, I quietly prop up on my elbow and just watch you sleep?  I watch your chest heave in and out, listen to the gentle sawing of wood as you breathe, and simply thank God that you're alive; that you're in my life!  I've never told you this, but, for a while after we got married, one of my last prayers for the day was that this was not all a dream.  I had waited so long - a lifetime, really - for you.  And, I am so very glad I did.  Someone tweeted a quote by Billy Graham's wife, Ruth, some time ago: "God did not always answer my prayers.  If He had, I would have married the wrong man - several times!"  Suffice it to say, I could relate. I used to pray then pause then watch then wait - a cycle that continued for years.  And then I just stopped.  I was like, whatever!  Then, one day, out of the blue, He said yes.  He said yes, because you were the right man for me.  Not Mr. Right. Not Mr. Perfect but Mr. Right-For-Me. 

Alas, when it happened, I had not seen it coming!  How could I?  It was at a time when I was not looking. You kinda just... appeared.  My mom had always said that when the time comes, it would be effortless.  I fell, effortlessly, in love with you.  You made it so easy.  Funny how life is.  We'd met before, but, "weirdos and creeps are single because they're weird and creepy; normal people like us are victims of bad timing", goes the line from one of my fav movies.  I'd never really lingered on the idea that I might have met my "The One" before.  Yes, the thought did cross my mind occasionally - but never lingered.  After all, as my reflections showed, the male friends who'd stuck along the way were all "just good friends".

By the time I realized I was falling for you, I wanted to ask, "What took you so long?"  and, "Where have you been all my life?"  But, apparently, both of us had taken the long way; the broken road that led us into each other's arms.  (See what I did there with my country selections? :-))  It had been such a long way that, by then, I had pretty much given up the idea that this thing beautiful was gonna happen for me.   Speaking of Rascal Flatts' Broken Road:

I set out on a narrow way, many years ago

Hoping I would find true love, along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign, pointed straight to you.

Every long-lost dream, led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars

Pointing me on my way, into your loving arms

This much I know is true,

That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.

I think about the years I spent just passing through

I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you

But you just smile and take my hand, you've been there you understand

It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true...

Little wonder that I wanted that song for our first dance - before we dove into Buju's Bonafide Love, before we plunged into Nickelback's Gotta Be Somebody!  So glad you obliged - even though I know you don't dig country :-)  But, that was just like you.  You were willing to learn what's important to me and, in no time, began to support me. Gotta admit, it was a tad strange, at first.  So accustomed I had become to doing everything for myself - including trying to rub my own back with Vicks VapoRub (the worst part of being single, by the way) - that it took me a lil while to realize that in my allowing you to help, I was demonstrating my trust.  It takes trust to love.  I felt rather vulnerable offering you my love; my heart, not being quite sure of whether, or how much, you'd care for it.  But, in no time, you showed me that there was no need to fear - not even a little bit.  How wonderful life is, since you entered my world.  There are many songs that are my life, but, you are one of the best songs of my heart.  I sing you every day.

They say you can tell a lot about a person by the way they handle three situations: lost luggage; a rainy day and tangled Christmas tree lights.  Husband, you ace them all.  It's in you to be patient and kind and strong enough to be gentle.  I admire that.  I really admire that.  Oh!  Remember that Easter we spent in Jamaica?  You definitely passed the "cheese test"!  While my sisters and I waited and chuckled, I secretly hoped you would.  You were courting me at the time, and I'd like to think that it wasn't my brother-in-law that gave you the heads up :-)  But, you took it out of the tin - all the way to slicing off a thin piece to make me a bun-and-cheese sandwich.  How cool was that?  If I hadn't known by then, that alone would've told me that you were a keeper.  And, if not by then, you telling me, "I'll do laundry," had to be the clincher!

You are a good man, my love.  And, like the movie line, you make me want to be a kinder...better person; to emulate you in some ways.  Your kindness brings out the best in me; makes me want to do all I can for you- including cook several times a week!  And, look at you, teaching me how to make certain dishes.  Smh...:-)   I admire and respect you and care about you. Remember when we spent six hours and Fifty-four minutes on that first phone call catching up?  We were swapping stories about ex-es and, toward the end, you said stteo: "You don't need to try to impress anybody; you don't have to do anything extraordinary.  You are beautiful.  Just be you - and let him know that you're interested."  I thought, "Hope so, 'cause I can't be anyone else."  I didn't tell you then, but, I misted up a little when you said that.  I kept thinking, "He thinks I'm beau-ti-ful; he thinks I'm fine just as I am.  Just...wow."  To be honest, it hadn't dawned on me then that you had...intentions.  After all, it was just a first convo; you were a good friend saying kind words.  But, we were inseparable after that.  You showed me you loved me and I showed you just how interested I was.  That big chune by Nickelback so rings true:

You can't give up, (when you're looking for)

A diamond in the rough, (because you never know) 
When it shows up, (make sure  you're holding on)
'Cause it could be the one
The one you're waiting on...

I'd always heard about couples who clicked; who just always seemed to be on the same wavelength; who got each other.   You get me.  Oh my goodness.  You have no idea how much that means to me.  Finally, not having to explain the me-niqueness of who I am. And, how precious that you've come to know that I would not hurt you; would not spite you; that, as Proverbs says, your heart can "safely trust in me" so you "shall have no need of spoil";  that I will "do you good and not evil all the days of my life."  And, in your patient way, you helped me to learn you, too.  True, occasionally, "teeth and tongue must meet" as the Jamaican saying goes.  We will, at times, drive each other up the wall.  We've had our spats - our first fight scared me, to be honest - but, we know that those moments don't mean we no longer like each other or are no longer in love with each other.  There's a country song that says stteo:  I love you, I'm just mad at you right now.  Yeah, it's kinda like that.  But, oh, the making-up.  Buju has a line in one of his songs: "But the making up part/Dat is the greatest/Discuss matters over a cup a tea/And kiss and caress."  I enjoy making-up.

I enjoy when we make love.  As in, enjoy.  We honour the divinity in each other when we do.   I had long ago promised myself that when God blesses me with a husband, I would make love to him in a way of wild abandon and worship.  God should look down from Heaven, elbow Jesus in His side, point with His chin and say, "That's my girl!"  You now know that I'm ladylike only in ...every other way. #thatisall.  Oh, by the way, when you kiss me, nothing else in the world matters - at all.

Honey, I wrote the kids. I've written to them telling them that we will both be welcoming them into our love.  I know you're looking forward to taking this next step into fatherhood.  I can tell by your grins; by the way you intercept me on my way to the kitchen, lift my blouse up a little and rest your ear against my tummy.  I can tell by the way you pull over sometimes when we're driving out, put the flashers on, then simply lean over and rest your ear against my tummy.  I don't know what they're telling you - how do you decipher the cacophony? - but, you always come back to me with that look of admiration mixed with anticipation.  In true Nemo's mom's voice, "We're gonna be parents!"  Let's not panic, okay? We'll do our best.  Like I told the children, with the help of God, our extended families and the village, we should be okay.

I love that you love the Lord and that you pray for me.  That gets its own paragraph.

I am proud of you, my love.  You work hard and you achieve your goals.  Yet, in wisdom - and sometimes, plain common sense - you know when to fold 'em and walk away.  The children will find in you a very good role model.  I am happy to support you in your endeavours.  (Well, except for the whole wanting-to-try-mountain-skiing thing.  Yeeeeeaah.  No.  But, I converted you to Monk.  So, sure, I'll think about it.)

My dear hubbidiboo (tell me you aren't knitting your brows at that!  LOL!) Anyway, my love, I was just gonna say I understand that life happens.  That sometimes, as Mary Schmich's essay (popularly known as Wear Sunscreen) says, there is the kind of thing that "blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday."  I pray that the adversities that may come our way will help make us stronger; love each other thicker and live life fuller.  I pray that, amidst the best, the worst and everything in between, we will have each other and each other's touch; that we will grow old together.  And, that, if we don't depart this weary sod together, the one left here will be blessed with long, fond and comforting memories of the beautiful times we shared.

My dearest love, you think you know, but you have no idea, how much I love you.



Claudia
http://www.cyopro.com/
www.twitter.com/cyopro

I have wings! (Cee Dubya)

A former co-worker gave me a postcard shortly before we part ways in 2004. On the cover is a cartoon depiction of a girl in a swing, reaching up, hair blowing in the wind. The caption reads: "She always knew she could fly..." On the inside: "...the question remained, "How high?""

Love that.

(Of course, I still have the card.)

I remembered all this the other day after we'd had quite an exciting Saturday morning - March 13, 2010. My little sis telephoned me and greeted me with stteo: "Congratulations! Your letter to the Editor is the Letter of the Day!!!" Well! I could hardly utter a coherent sentence. I had to tap each key, rather slowly, to type the URL. When I finally got to it, there it was: My letter - a thing of beauty.

We went over it again and then some. We analyzed why the Editor had made the "corrections"/amendments he had; why he had omitted a section of a paragraph as well as the very last line ("Maybe he is trying to protect you," she offered). I called Mommy and asked her to get a copy of The Gleaner with my letter of the day in it. She did. And they - she and Daddy - read it again.

My other sisters offered their congrats and support, too. Yes. It was, truly, one of the best days of my life.

For, you see, as I reminded my lil sis, it was encouraging to me as a suffocating writer. She has a sense of how daunted I feel under the weight of knowing that I am a writer but not writing what I should. It's like I mention in the title and sub-title of another blog: The Vital Air: When you're suffocating, all you can think about is breathing.

I am yet to write my book(s). I don't want to go to my grave with it (them) inside me.
I am yet to write the book with Daddy - worse yet.

So, it's been kinda like that. (See very first entry in this blog.) And then, one day, someone thought that what I had written was worth publishing - and worth the distinction, to boot!

My prayer was short: Oh God, thank you for my wings!

Below is a copy of my letter to the Editor of the Jamaican newspaper, The Gleaner. I used the email associated with my pen name, Cee Dubya.

Sidney Bristow was right. "There's no drug like adrenaline!"

********

The Editor, Sir:

When we appoint certain people to be "entrusted with the responsibility to lead the State's anti-corruption, law-enforcement and prosecutorial institutions" (a quote borrowed from another paper), what are the measures that we put in place to ensure that they are up to the mark, and keep up to the mark, in every way, as they carry out their duties?

Apart from periodic reports - which can say anything you want them to - what do we do to make sure that in every nook and cranny, things are being done in acceptable ways? Sure there are audits, but, again, don't you wonder sometimes how some things get 'overlooked'?

As so many have said, repeatedly, Jamaica has sunk into a rather horrific abyss. The taxpayers would welcome suitable persons in whom to repose their trust. However, when we appoint someone in Jamaica to a position of almost unrestrained power - doesn't matter who it is - we have to remember that that person is human. He or she, like anyone else, has to deal with personal demons. There may be psychological or emotional shortcomings which, as we know, are not usually indicated on a résumé or highlighted during an interview or even have been demonstrated in a 'less powerful' job. Being in a position where he or she doesn't have to answer to anyone, per se, is a pretty powerful one. As Lord Acton said in a letter to Bishop Mandel Creighton in 1887: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."

Hope is not a method

Does this mean that we leave these positions of almost unlimited power unfilled because each man/woman has his/her set of weaknesses? Do we throw our hands up, appoint someone who seems to fit the bill, and then hope for the best? Again, hope is not a method.

It's a different take on the whole thing, but, I submit that while we look around for these positions of power to be filled, for the best woman or man to be "entrusted with the responsibility to lead the State's anti-corruption, law-enforcement and prosecutorial institutions", we also institute some kind of mandatory psychological (and other relevant) evaluation to assure ourselves that the incumbent remains fit for the job - in every way! No set date, either. Between a year and 18 months, with no more notice than a day or two, the evaluation is done and the taxpayers get to hear the final result. No. This is not to evaluate them to determine sainthood. But, certainly, however it is crafted, it should help to determine whether power is going to the head, and possibly leading to some 'can't touch dis!' behaviour.

Real transparency

Consider the yet-to-be created Independent Commission of Investigations to be led by a commissioner - pretty powerful position. Generally, those are regarded as 'what I say, goes' positions. But, every public position is answerable to someone and, ultimately, the country's taxpayers. A palatable pronouncement is one thing. Behind the closed doors of the organisation, what is taking place and how? Intrusive? Lack of trust? Perhaps, but, we're talking about real, real transparency. Nothing to hinder the work, just enough to keep us assured.

So, it's not just about who is watching the watchman. Deeper still, are we keeping track of whether he or she is embracing delusions of grandeur under the weight of the powerful position? Who questions him/her? Do media even bother? Listen, danger ahead when people in powerful positions become 'media darlings'. The media only become conduits of messages and clearly lose objectivity as they are essentially dictated to, as they dare not carry out 'investigative journalism' which might topple the status quo. And if the media do get wind that something has gone awry, again, do they bother, or do they just leave it be, because everything else seems to be working and 'no better nuh deh a John shop'?

Things like reports and audits do not necessarily capture, for example, the hell of a milieu to which employees are sometimes subjected, as they endure the psychological and emotional onslaughts borne out of the psychological and mental delusions from occupying an 'almighty' position.

I am, etc.,

VERY CONCERNED


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Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro