Sundays With Rae

a blog for women by a woman who is trying to get her life together while still loving Jesus

Life is Good

On May 13, I wrote a note in my phone, “Life with you is good. So, so good.” It was a regular Thursday; I was at work, you were at work. The night before, I cooked us dinner (and it was amazing!) and we talked and laughed. I don’t remember anything specific from that night but that Thursday I remember sitting and being so grateful I was sharing my life with you. It was in these simple moments that the fabrics of my love for you were being stitched together.

You do grand gestures well, leaving me speechless with my cheeks hurting from smiling. Those moments are the icing on a delicious cake. They leave me floating in the clouds questioning if this is my life. But I am aware this love is rooted in those small moments I previously mentioned. I can float freely in the clouds because I know when I come back down to earth, the air is just as lovely down here.

One would say a proposal is one of the grandest gestures one could make, and somehow you managed to make such a huge moment, the most intimate I’ve shared with you to date. Under a gazebo in front of a couple of friends and strangers going about their day, we decided to pursue forever together. If I thought I was floating in the clouds before, I certainly had reached another part of our solar system that day.

I did not make it back down to earth until a couple of days later while sitting at work, feeling similar to how I did that Thursday. I made the mistake of watching the proposal video for the third or fourth time and after it ended, I thanked God for everything it took to get to that moment. As the tears flowed, I knew how undeserving I was of such an extraordinary love. There was nothing I did to earn it, but God’s faithfulness towards me led me there. His grace and mercy covered me. I could have not chosen this path for myself but an intentional God saw fit to bless me in His perfect timing. And I’ll spend the rest of my life thanking Him for it.

I look forward to forever with you because life with you is so, so good.

Mark 10:6-9 But from the beginning of the creation God made them male and female. For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife; And they twain shall be one flesh: so then they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.

May 2021

Madam Vice President

I started not to say anything because all of this still feels surreal. My vice president is a Black woman. Reading those words makes me feel like I’m reading the beginning of a good story my best friend started writing. She’s full of ideas usually rooted in fiction, but this is no fairytale. My vice president is really a Black woman.

I know the correct term is “vice president-elect,” but I don’t care. Since I’ve started teaching, it’s been difficult to find a bright spot when referring to our government, especially on a national level. But I’m so excited to tell all the brown girls in my class that their soon to be vice president is a Black woman. I can’t wait to have endless conversations with my goddaughter and her sisters about the limitless possibilities that await them and be able to use this moment as an example. God willing, I’ll tell my future daughters what it was like to witness history being made. This feels so good!

My friends will tell you, I don’t keep up with politics as much as I probably should (most of my knowledge comes from them), but this goes far beyond politics. In a country where Black people were considered three fifths of a person, in a country where Black people literally lost their lives in order to vote, in a country where people have to be told that Black lives matter, we voted for a Black man to be president and eight years later, we voted for a man who chose a Black woman as our vice president. It’s said that Black women are often overlooked and underappreciated. But today, Madam Vice President Kamala Harris, you are seen and you are adored. Thank you!

1 Timothy 2:1-2 I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.

Kamala Harris (Photo Collection of the Senate Historical Office)

Black Boy Live

Two of my favorite black boys (my cousins)

Two of my favorite black boys (my cousins)

This is slightly off topic but it was on my heart to share.

There are many black men I hold near and dear to my heart and their presence in my life has made me very much who I am. But there is a group of black boys that have changed my life and this is for them and all of the other black boys like them:

Seven months ago I started my work as a family therapist, working with teenagers on probation. All black. All boys. I can admit this was not my first choice of populations to work with (I preferred younger kids), but this opportunity presented itself and I knew it was right for me; that doesn’t mean it didn’t come with its own set of challenges (i.e. silent treatment, getting arrested, breaking curfew, etc.). Each week I go into the homes of these boys and meet with them and their families. These boys were a few years from 18 and they had admitted to everything from breaking into people’s houses, snatching phones, to just being at the wrong place at the wrong time. By the time they get to me, their record already consist of other charges, with an extensive school discipline record to go along with it. I went to both a middle school and a high school with kids who were on probation, fitted with ankle monitors and I was scared. At 25 years old (depending on what I have on, I could pass for 20), 5’5, and barely bigger than what I weighed in middle school, I was still scared. However, after my first session with my first family, fear became a stranger. They became mine. 

My kids are hilarious, they are polite, they are emotional, they are children who made some poor decisions which involved getting caught breaking the law. They are also targets; not because of their probation status, but because of their skin color. My kids were born at risk, their “extracurricular activities” simply put them at a higher risk. At risk of dying by the hands of people who took an oath to protect, who pledged allegiance to a flag for liberty and justice for all. Many of my kids are under the impression it (dying) can’t happen to them, that is until it happens to them. Living is simply a consequence of being born. There is too much death, too much trauma to think about tomorrow. It broke my heart to hear one of my kids discuss feeling indifferent about dying because this world had given him nothing to live for. I never want my kids to use excuses as justification for their actions, but I want my kids to live. I need my kids to live. 

I know many people are indifferent about them living because they can’t possibly see them as their own. To them, they are another statistic. They can’t imagine their heart breaking into a million little pieces over the loss of them, but I assure you mine would. I promise my whole world would stop, just as it does when I see the face of any child, now dead in city streets. I can imagine they are my own. My kids are kids, are kids, are kids, and worthy of living. I’m sophisticated enough to know, I experience a different kid than their teachers and peers and victims get but my kids are not monsters. My kids were not born destined for a life on probation, with pending case numbers attached to their names. My families are not broken, they are trying, they are supportive, and often times they are hurting. Don’t wait until my kids are breaking into your homes to notice them. Notice them when they are six and telling you what they want to be when they grow up. My kids don’t need rescuing, they need to be thought of as people worthy of life. They are mine and I need them to live. 

Psalms 144:12 That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace: