A wonderful lesson in love and forgiveness from the talented Katie Silcox.
Yoga-mat-carrying-chics could learn something from bible-carrying chics. I should know. I got schooled by some sassy, suit-wearing lady-preachers this past year when I moved back down south to Virginia, land of the notorious Bible Belt.
A few months back I had a big ole’ fat case of the poor-me’s. A mind gremlin had actually wrapped her slimy webbed palms around my head and heart. She was ruthless, loudly blaring things into my heart space that made me wanna’ give up on my dreams and get in bed with a box of Chex-mix and a block of cheese.
Luckily, my mama (Vera) was around to pull me out of funk-city, dragging me kicking and screaming to a bible study. The last time I had been to bible class I was wearing MC-hammer pants, braiding friendship bracelets and listing to Toni Braxton. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled at the prospect…
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