Stories

The news is rife with heartbreaking scenes of women in deep places of suffering: women who fled the Ukrainian war; mothers who are unable to purchase formula for their infants; the faces of those in communities ravaged by the recent mass shootings.

My sister and I had the gift of being raised by both our maternal grandmother and our parents. Grandma was wise through faith and lived experience as a southern Black woman born in 1911. I cannot remember her ever raising her voice or causing alarm with her demeanor. She, however, was a quiet power who did not mince words or shy away from truth-speaking.

My sister and I had the gift of being raised by both our maternal grandmother and our parents. Grandma was wise through faith and lived experience as a southern Black woman born in 1911. I cannot remember her ever raising her voice or causing alarm with her demeanor. She, however, was a quiet power who did not mince words or shy away from truth-speaking.

“My whole life I’ve been the “nerdy” kid who was too much into Star Wars and had no concept of what it meant to be “cool.” In high school it was especially difficult to be who I was, and I struggled with not fitting in or feeling like I was like everyone else. It didn’t help being the preacher’s kid who moved around all the time and never felt quite settled where I was. As I grew older, it became less of a struggle, and in large part because of one of my favorite pieces of scripture, Psalm 139:13-14.

A few years ago, I sat down with the director of a $1M+ nonprofit and asked what she ate in a day. As her health coach, I waited—pen in hand—to take notes.

“Well, I usually have black coffee while I answer emails at 6 AM,” she said. “I’ll have a peanut butter sandwich at lunch (if I remember to eat). Then I grab dinner out with a friend before more evening meetings until 9 PM.”