Sharing Our Stories: My heart's cry

A Cry of Lament
A guest post written by Stephanie Bankhead

These past several weeks have been exceptionally difficult. It is easy to read the news and allow frustration and grief to settle in like a rock sinking to the bottom of a pond.

To make matters worse, I have had several very tense conversations with White friends. I want so badly for them to understand and acknowledge the cry of our fellow humans of color. But I walk away from those conversations feeling like the road ahead is steep and rocky. It feels monumental.

In an effort to deal with all the mixed emotions that have plagued me lately, I have written this cry of lament. I’m sharing it with you in hopes that it will help you too. That God’s love will settle over you and bring a peace that passes understanding.

This is my cry…

O Most High and Holy God,

There is a chasm wider than any canyon on earth between Your children this day.

We are so self-absorbed and self-protective that we can’t see our fellow humans

for the beautiful images of You that they are.

We are angry and always ready for a fight.

We are killing and maiming each other literally and figuratively.

Even though Your Word clearly tells us that there is no distinction of hierarchy in Your Kingdom,

we classify and label in order to elevate ourselves to higher status.

We stand in pride, refusing to see our brothers and sisters who are hurting and in pain.

Because acknowledging their pain and oppression would be admitting that we have done wrong.

Lord God, we need You.

We need You to change hearts and mindsets.

Help us to be gentle in our conversations with those who aren’t ready to hear and to ask more questions than to argue.

Give us a heart of humility and repentance. We have done wrong.

We have sinned against you and against our fellow human beings.

Please let our convictions show through our words and actions.

We need Your Holy Spirit to bring peace and open our eyes.

You, Lord Jesus, went around doing good when you walked on this dusty earth two thousand years ago.

Empower us to do good too. We want to be like You.

You are the lifter of the oppressed. You set captives free.

Jesus, You are our freedom. Your death and resurrection has saved us and set us free.

We want to live like we believe that with all our hearts.

No matter the crazy circumstances of the world, we trust You, God.

We put our hope in You. You saved us before and You will save us once again.

We will shout with joy the new song of freedom and love that You have put in our mouths.

We will sing of Your goodness and mercy all of our days.

Your grace is sufficient.

And we thank You. 

In Jesus’s Name I pray.

Amen.

~*~
Author Bio:

Stephanie Bankhead is a Bible teacher, mentor and author of several Bible studies. She has worked at a local church as the Women’s Ministry Leader since 2013. In 2018, she became an ordained Teaching Pastor. Before that, she worked as the director of a very successful youth volleyball club.

What both of these experiences taught her is that women are still little girls inside. Deep down we are all still asking the same questions, “Am I capable? Am I attractive? Am I enough?”

Stephanie delivers sermons and speaks at women’s events on a multitude of topics. Her favorite topic is teaching people what the Bible says about their own identity in God.

Stephanie lives in Amarillo, Texas with her husband of 32 years. They have a rescue pup who barks too much, and a bird abandoned when her two grown children flew the nest. Her four grandchildren are the apples of her eye.

Sharing Our Stories: No Solo Carriers

No Solo Carriers
A guest post by Amber Hoopengarner

“As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross.” –Matthew 27:32 (NIV)

Watching the news one morning in March 2021 caused me to be in shock, disgust and unimaginable sadness as I saw a group of Asian men and women rallying to remind the world that they matter because recent events have left them the target of brutal attacks. The result is that they are feeling vulnerable and confused. They are questioning what they thought they knew about this free country.

Minutes later, I turned off the television and thought about my own life trials and tasks. What can I do? I am only one person, one woman in one small town, chasing around several headstrong children. Suddenly, God reminded me of the man named Simon who helped carry the cross of Jesus Christ.

Simon was just an average African man visiting while Jesus was on his way to be crucified at a spot outside Jerusalem called Golgotha.

Simon was not on any special assignment. He did not have a particular agenda and nothing else is mentioned or known of him. Up until now, he was not heard of, yet Scripture says that he was instructed to carry the cross of Jesus. Can you imagine the thoughts he could have had? Perhaps he said, “You want me to do what? I do not even know this man, that wood looks extremely heavy!”

Despite what the conversation may have sounded like or what Simon was thinking, the Bible says that he placed the cross on his back and helped Jesus carry it without complaint.

Can you imagine what the world would be like if we would react to our brothers and sisters of different races and cultures the same way when they are facing hardship?

What if we help people of color carry their cross? What if we make the conscious choice to rally alongside the oppressed and marginalized as we climb together to be taken seriously, treated fairly, thought of in circles we never have dreamed about, and have our names spoken in rooms we only imagined being able to enter?

What if we accept the fact that it is not just one person’s cross to bear? If we all do our part to fight in love and carry each other’s crosses no matter how heavy they are, then we will be blessed with the opportunities to witness about the unconditional, never ending, constant love of the One (Jesus Christ) who died to set us free.

Let’s Pray: Dear God, please forgive me for the times when I am too overwhelmed by all the chaos of the world and my own struggles to think I can do anything to help. Allow me to remember that the most important thing I can do is lift up others—especially those fighting racial injustice—in prayer. You care about those who the world so quickly targets and then forgets. Thank You, God, for the strength and courage to help bear another’s cross. In Jesus’s Name I pray. Amen.

~*~
Author Bio:

Amber Hoopengarner is a writer and self-published author who is also a Certified Life Coach working with women who suffer from PMADs and children who suffer from mental health disorders.  

She is a Maternal Mental Health Advocate and works to help raise awareness within the church of mental health disorders especially among BIPOC women.

Amber graduated in 2016 from the University of Phoenix with an Associates in Human Services Management and is currently in the process of obtaining her bachelor’s in psychology. She also has certificates in Mental Health Coaching, Bibliotherapy and CBT as well as in Perinatal Mood Anxiety Disorders.

Amber loves God and people! She enjoys making a difference through bringing up issues and challenges that sometimes would not otherwise be addressed. Amber believes that God wants His people to be loved where right where they are while they are working on who He has called them to become.

~*~
Connect with Amber:
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/amberwha35/

Sharing Our Stories: A Life Lesson on Adversity

Strength in Adversity
A devotional written by Stephanie Bankhead

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” – James 1:2-4 (ESV)

“How long does this go on, God? Will it never end?”

Does this prayer sound familiar? If you are breathing then you have probably whispered this about the pandemic. For many years during any struggle or trial, this was my prayer. I wanted God to sweep in like a knight in shining armor and remove whatever it was causing suffering or trouble. And I won’t lie, there has been a time or two during this pandemic I’ve asked God to please remove the suffering.

I recently had a conversation with a young, Hispanic woman who is my friend. I asked her what it was like growing up as a Hispanic female in our city in Texas. She shared what I had suspected—stories of racism and sexism: being judged and shamed for being a teenage mom, having two years of fast food experience and still getting hired for a new job at a lower rate than her male friend who had no experience, being called racial slurs by men in places like parking lots and grocery stores for no reason.

What surprised me was her response when I asked her if there was anything that she would change about her circumstances growing up. She confidently stated she would not change a thing because all these situations have made her who she is today. When I asked her what she would change for her own daughter, she simply replied that she would have people treat each other with kindness rather than division and hatred.

I went home that day thinking about her comment about how the adversity made her who she is today. There is wisdom in her words. When I look back on times when my relationship with and faith in God has grown, they’ve all been times of adversity. Having a prodigal child will drive you to your knees at the feet of Jesus like not much else will.

I’ve come to believe that God has a different, higher perspective of adversity. In the book of James in the Bible, He says to count it all joy. And that trials produce steadfastness that leads to us being complete. I do long to be complete. I still don’t long for adversity, but I don’t shy away from it anymore either. If that is what God uses to bring us closer to Him, then let it be.

The next time you find yourself praying the “Will this never end, God?” prayer, I want to encourage you to stop and instead ask Him what He is trying to teach you through the situation. And for the courage and strength to keep your eyes fixed on who He ultimately is helping you to become.

Let’s Pray: Lord, Your love is steadfast and sure. Thank you for loving me enough to help me walk through the adversity in my life with Your power and strength. Help me to see what You’re trying to teach me in this and to come out of the other side a person of greater faith and more fruit for Your Kingdom. I ask this in the Mighty Name of Jesus! Amen.

~*~
Author Bio:

Stephanie Bankhead is a Bible teacher, mentor and author of several Bible studies. She has worked at a local church as the Women’s Ministry Leader since 2013. In 2018, she became an ordained Teaching Pastor. Before that, she worked as the director of a very successful youth volleyball club. 

What both of these experiences taught her is that women are still little girls inside. Deep down we are all still asking the same questions, “Am I capable? Am I attractive? Am I enough?”

Stephanie delivers sermons and speaks at women’s events on a multitude of topics. Her favorite topic is teaching people what the Bible says about their own identity in God.

Stephanie lives in Amarillo, Texas with her husband of 32 years. They have a rescue pup who barks too much, and a bird abandoned when her two grown children flew the nest. Her four grandchildren are the apples of her eye.

Sharing Our Stories: Don't be defensive

Challenging Defensive Thoughts
A guest post by Kristen Rimer Terrette

Defensiveness. The desire to challenge or avoid criticism.

When was the last time you felt this way? Maybe when you went on the defense because you perceived a threat to your integrity about a situation?

If you’re on social media, it’s likely you can say this recently happened to you. It seems confrontation and combativeness are a part of daily life on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. Even if you weren’t the one who “came out swinging,” you might have felt the need to stand up for yourself or others by merely reading the comments on a feed.

The physical and emotional feelings that come with defensiveness usually aren’t good. I loathe conflict of any kind and will avoid it all costs, but every once in a while, my hackles go up. I’m like a lion in sheep’s clothing. Wanting to remain a sheep most of the time, but when needed the lioness inside can and will make an appearance.

A while back, the lioness appeared as I had a defensive reaction to a situation.

I received a comment from a reader on one of my articles about (in short) God loving and showing off His creativity through our skin colors. The reader asked me, “How would you feel about your daughter dating a person of color?”

Quickly, many defensive thoughts and assumptions ran through my mind. I assumed the person saw my author picture—therefore recognizing I was a white woman—then proceeded to pose this baited question in an effort to trip me up, to expose me as a hypocrite.

Irritation and something very close to anger ran through me. I almost started typing a quick and snarky response. Something to defend myself, like “My daughter has dated men of color already. And we loved each of them.” Those words would’ve had an underlining current, saying, “Ha! You didn’t trip me up!”

But the Holy Spirit pulled me back from typing anything right away and thank goodness for that! 

Because the more I thought about it, the more God birthed in me an even bigger desire for racial unity and reconciliation, as I realized this person did not trust me.

Now, I recognize my initial thoughts were based on assumptions, but it’s like God wanted me to see, through this situation and my reaction, that trust is not a given. If someone or group has been wronged, trust is not handed over freely, no matter your skin color.

This realization changed my viewpoint, and when I did construct a response, I tried to put one small drop of trustworthiness back into an empty bucket for us (White people) as a whole. I hope I achieved this, because it’s so important as we work to undo past hurts.

Trust is foundational for all relationships. When trust is broken, even if you feel like you didn’t specifically cause this break, the relationship is strained. As a White woman, I want to do my part in planting seeds of trustworthiness as I interact with all people.

Next time your own hackles go up, stop and breathe. Process and pray then ask yourself these questions: Where is the root of my defensiveness coming from? What am I not seeing on the “other side of the story”?

Use these answers to challenge yourself, pushing down anger and drawing out love instead.

Let’s make an effort to reestablish trust between each other by listening, learning, and helping one another move toward racial reconciliation.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: Why Racism is Wrong

Racism Against People of Color
A guest post by Sherrinda Ketchersid

Since George Floyd’s death, I’ve been educating myself about racism and White privilege. Most of the books, magazines, and online articles have focused on Black voices, but as I have friends and family members who are married to Latinxs, I’ve begun to investigate the issues that this and other underrepresented groups face. My findings have been eye-opening. As people of God, we cannot close our eyes to the mistreatment of God-created human beings.

Let’s talk about the Latinx group. I did not know this, but Latinx is the biggest minority group in the United States—not by much, with Blacks coming in close behind. I also learned that Latinx are the second most discriminated ethnic group after Blacks. Like Black people, the darkness or lightness of their skin contributes to the level of discrimination.

From a survey done by pewresearch.org, four in ten Latinx say they have recently experienced one of the following incidents—called offensive names, told to go back to their home country, disparaged for speaking Spanish, and given harsh treatment because of their ethnicity.

Let’s not forget the issues with the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Detention Centers—families separated, poor living conditions, poor medical treatment, etc. There is a history of abuse and neglect dating back to the early 1900s. Allegations of rape and unauthorized sterilizations abound. Even for those Latinx born in the U.S., many of them live in fear for family members and friends.

Now let’s turn our attention on Indigenous Americans. We all have heard about how colonization of North America forced Indigenous Americans from their homes and their sacred lands, many slaughtered in the process. They were told untruths, endured broken treaties, and forced into segregation on reservations. Today, Indigenous Americans face discrimination across a variety of areas such as medical treatment, interaction with police, educational processes, microaggressions, and racial slurs.

Statistics show that Indigenous Americans who live in a heavily populated Native area are more likely to experience institutional discrimination than those in a less populated Native area. In regard to housing, a few years ago in North Dakota, a law was passed that made having a photo ID with a street address a requirement to vote. This targeted the Indigenous Americans, many of whom used P.O. Boxes. Voter repression is still happening, just as it is for the Black community, where the war on drugs and mass incarceration makes voting impossible.

Now let’s look at Asian Americans. Some of you may have seen on the news this year instances where some have been told to “go home”, all because COVID-19 was first reported in China. The virus has been called the “China Flu” by some, which in and of itself is racist. But this is not a new thing, according to history.

Discrimination against Asians goes back a long way. Back around the 1850s, Chinese workers began to come over to U.S., fleeing from wars and economic hardship. At first they were welcomed, but soon were seen as competition from lower-class whites. In 1870, The Naturalization Act gave naturalization rights to those of African descent, but not those of Asian descent.

In the 1960s, during the anti-black discrimination uprising, Asian-Americans became the poster child for the new term “model-minority”, stating they were better at abiding by the law and being hard workers. While this may have looked good on the outside, it constituted the idea that Asian Americans did not need government assistance.

Asian Americans face discrimination today. In one study at the University of Toronto, it was found that those of East Asian descent were thought of as extremely competent, but lacking leadership and dominance, making them overlooked for leadership positions. This is alluded to as the “bamboo ceiling”—and why Asian Americans don’t consider advanced degrees as profitable as for whites.

Black people have been discriminated against more openly and ruthlessly. The injustices they have been dealt with have been reprehensible and violent. From slavery, to segregation, to voter suppression, to lynching, to mass incarceration, to police brutality, Black people in America have been dealt a heavy blow.

I know I am excluding other underrepresented groups like Middle Eastern, South Asian, and others, which I know experience discrimination as well, but to be mindful of the length of this post, I am focusing on other people of color at this time.

The discrimination and racial injustices against people of color … all colors … is perpetrated by people of white skin. This was true even before American colonization. It is pervasive and though we try to make things better, other structures of suppression pop up.

As believers in Christ, we cannot stand by and be silent any longer. Scripture clearly tells us of God’s heart for all people. Each one of us are His creation, made in His image (Genesis 1:27). We are to treat every person with respect and love.

We should not favor whites over people of color because, as Christ’s followers, we follow His example and teachings. It was Jesus Christ’s disciple Peter who said, “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right.” (Acts 10:34-35 NIV)

In the book of Revelation 7:9-10 (NIV), we see that in heaven “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” Everyone, no matter their nationality, their ethnicity, or their skin color will be excluded from God’s kingdom. If God does not exclude, why would we?

As we move forward in 2021, I am challenging myself—and others—to examine our lives to see we show favoritism. Do we watch TV and movies that only feature white leads? Do we read books that are white centered? Does our friend circle all have the same color skin? Do we initiate conversations with others who look different from us? Do we seek to befriend and truly know and understand others of different backgrounds? Are we calling out racism when we see it…in ourselves and in others? These are questions I am asking myself this year.

I pray that my heart grows in bravery in the face of injustice, and that I will expand my circle of friends to include more diversity. What about you? How will you work on your heart in regard to racial justice?

~*~
Author Bio:

Sherrinda Ketchersid is an author of historical romance and a minister’s wife who loves to paint in her Bible.

She loves to read, spend time in her flower garden, and try her hand at new crafts. She likes to blog and is part of a group called The Writers Alley. 

Sherrinda lives in north-central Texas with her husband of 35 years. With four grown children, three guys and a gal, she has more time and energy to spin tales of faith, fun, and forever love.

~*~
Connect with Sherrinda:
Website: www.sherrinda.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SherrindaKetchersidAuthor/
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/sherrinda
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sherrinda
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sherrinda/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19022507.Sherrinda_Ketchersid
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/sherrinda-ketchersid
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sherrinda-Ketchersid/e/B07Q5Y8QHF/

Sharing Our Stories: The Beloved Community

Beloved Community
A guest post by Dr. Angelle M. Jones

“He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” 

– Luke 10:27 (NIV)

As we approach the celebration of MLK Day, your thoughts may turn to Dr. King’s dream of a Beloved Community. His was a narrative of a collective community. A community committed to embracing the philosophy of nonviolence. A community where its inhabitants share the wealth of the earth and where the coexistence of racism and poverty are no longer. A community where by engaging the principles of nonviolence, conflict or international disputes are resolved peacefully. It has been said that to Dr. King, the enactment of Beloved Community was as realistic as the racist world in which he lived.

My personal vision of Beloved Community developed as the result of years of longing for an authentic multiracial and multiethnic worshipping community. I envisioned a sacred space where Christians embraced and lived reconciled with one another the way the Kingdom of God is portrayed in Scripture. I saw a sacred space where in spite of what took place outside, inside, loving God also meant loving your Black or White neighbor as yourself. When I think about the many communal experiences I’ve personally encountered, I realize it was the authenticity of loving relationships developed in those spaces that brought me joy. On the other hand, the effects of racism in that same space have affected not only the way I see and experience community, but at times it caused me to fear the possibility of believing genuine relationships between Blacks and Whites could ever exist.

Today, intentional racial reconciliation happens as I do the work of loving my White neighbor as I love me. As I reflect back to my first experience of allowing a White person to enter into my relational space, I am almost embarrassed at the level of resistance extended. My dear friend of now thirty some years, approached me in Bible college after hearing I was having car trouble. She offered her help in getting me to class.

As a new Christian who had recently spent five years of college studying African-American studies, finding myself in a multiracial/multicultural church was the last place I thought I would worship or find authentic White folk for that matter. After only a short time, because of some of my initial encounters at the church when Whites turned away after the pastor asked everyone to reach out and touch or hug their neighbor, I immediately distrusted my friend’s motive. The more I resisted, the more she insisted she could pick me up for class. We laugh about it today because in reality neither of us was intentionally trying to befriend or hurt the other. She was just being her naturally giving self; I on the other hand, was naturally protecting myself from further discrimination, which had become a normal way of life, now in and outside the church. Her intentionally reaching across the invisible color line to offer help, was all it took for me to risk letting my guard down to finally accept her invitation.

It has been theorized that since slavery in America, social categorization of race construct, and superiority and inferiority complex theories have been used by Whites to subjugate Blacks and other minorities. As a result, this social construct has through the years caused Blacks and others since slavery to continue to be looked upon as inferior to the majority race in this country. For this reason, years after the physical and emotional traumatization of Blacks, many African-Americans still carry the scars from slavery, while trying to deconstruct the myth of being inferior.

This trauma has affected how Blacks often respond when approached by Whites. Even when Whites may have good intentions, Blacks subconsciously may be wondering, “What is your real motive?” or asking themselves, “Is the person just trying to relieve themselves of guilt by doing something nice for a Black person?”

Even against the resistance posed, this White woman who is now one of my dearest friends, pressed to make a difference in someone’s life. More importantly she did it without allowing color to be a barrier. Although our relationship may have been divinely orchestrated by the Holy Spirit, we did have to obey the promptings to allow this organic friendship to develop between us. What may have started as an unplanned relationship, at some point we had to become intentional for it to flourish authentically.

In light of my personal journey with my friend, I learned that the opportunity for genuine fellowship between Blacks and Whites will only reach its maximum potential when the participants are intentional about loving the other as they love themselves. By allowing this sister in Christ to be the authentic and genuine person that she was and remains to be after years of friendship, I am a better person and I believe she would agree, so is she. We have had countless discussions about race, how we grew up, our parents, and how all these factors have made a difference in how we view one another.

Even though we are both Christians, we found having a lot in common still did not keep us from running into challenges as we grew to learn about one another. I am sure we would both admit that our friendship has weathered the racial storms of the decades since our first encounter. Through political debates, church traditions, ministry, life and other major differences that we faced as we were becoming the women we are today, we are both better because of the other. More importantly, we have modeled authentic Beloved Community for our friends and families.

As we celebrate this upcoming MLK Day, there is only one way to capitulate the seemingly shrinking imagery caste by Dr. King. If nourished, the sixty-year-old vision will remain alive to never die. As we strive to authentically love one another, one life, one church at a time, may Beloved Community prevail. 

~*~
Author Bio:

“Inspiring and Motivating With the Power of Words” 

Angelle M. Jones believes that the power of words inspires, and motivate to bring about transformative change individually and collectively. 

Angelle originally hails from Cleveland, Ohio. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in African-American studies from the University of Cincinnati. Angelle has a master’s degree in Theological Studies from Columbia Theological Seminary in Atlanta, Georgia and an earned Doctorate in Ministry on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, and his philosophy of The Beloved Community from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.

Her ministry career began as a staff member of the Northeastern Ohio Billy Graham Crusade in 1994. For twenty years, as founder and director of In The Spirit Ministries, Inc. she led teams on mission outreaches throughout the world. From 2007-2012 Angelle served as Missions Director of New Salem Missionary Baptist Church in Columbus, Ohio where she currently resides. Angelle is founder and director of GlobaLife Coaching and Consulting serving as a Life and Transformation Coach and Church Consultant.

In 2016 Angelle authored and self-published her first book, Happily Never After. Along with sharing words of hope by sharing her writings on her social media platforms, she has been published in Vantage Magazine which is a literary source for faculty, students and alumni of Columbia Theological Seminary, and Ready which is a cutting-edge online magazine addressing current events and trending socially relevant topics for women.

Angelle is the mother of an adult daughter. She is a grandmother and great-grandmother.

~*~
Connect with Dr. Angelle:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/angelle.m.jones.5
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/abundantgrace1/
Website: www.globalifetransforms.com
Email: globalifeconsultants@gmail.com

Sharing Our Stories: A real-life story about a woman of color's experiences in America

Kristen Rimer Terrette’s interview with Amanda Brooks 

for Sharing Our Stories

Today, Kristen is sharing an interview that she conducted with her friend Amanda Brooks.

Read a bit about Amanda below then enjoy her interview!

~*~
Amanda's Bio:

Amanda Brooks has been married to her college sweetheart for fifteen years. 

They live in the Atlanta area with their two boys and their dog who doesn’t realize lap dogs are not 110 pounds.

Being surrounded by dudes means there’s never a dull moment in her house. She attended church as a child, but her faith journey was solidified her freshman year in college through the campus ministry, Campus Outreach. She’s an Instructional Specialist which means she teaches both students and other teachers. 

Amanda worships and serves at her local church, doing life with lots of different types of people. She believes in the importance of this type of faith community. It is this group who have held her up and pointed her back to the cross during difficult times and celebrated with her during life’s triumphs. 

~*~

The Interview: 

Kristen: I’m excited to introduce to our readers, my longtime friend, Amanda Brooks. We went to high school together, and, thankfully, through social media, we’ve been able to keep in touch. I’ve followed and loved her faith, intelligence, and reason, all while using her voice and influence with kindness, laced with hope for changed minds and communities.

Tell us about yourself, Amanda!

Amanda: Well, I turned 40 this year, so I think that makes an Xennial, right? I’m the wife to Nick for the last 15 years, and mom to two boys, Preston and Asher. And to Monk the dog who doesn’t realize lap dogs are not 110 pounds. Yes, I’m surrounded by dudes, so there’s never a dull moment in my house, but I’m pretty sure I was meant to be a boy mom. I grew up in the church but didn’t truly come to faith until my freshman year in college through a campus ministry called Campus Outreach. And I, of course, was forever changed. Today, I’m an Instructional Specialist in Atlanta which is a fancy term to mean I teach students in part, and train and support other teachers and staff in part, so let’s just say I’m busy. I worship and serve at East Point Church where I have the honor of doing life with lots of different types of people who have held me up and pointed me back to the cross in my most difficult days and celebrated with me during life’s triumphs.

Kristen: You’re awesome!

Now, being that we went to high school together, even though you were in the super smartie classes, we were taught the same version of historical facts. As an adult, I’ve learned a lot of what’s found in history books is full of half-truths and incomplete or one-sided versions (the White man’s point of view) of events, wars, and time periods. I’m curious, as a child or teen, did you know there was a different narrative of history? Were you taught facts and told of stories by your family members apart from school teachings? Or did you accept as truth the totality of what we were taught?

Amanda: In high school, I had a great history teacher named Mr. Timmons. As a former military man, he was straight forward and didn’t romanticize the uglier side of our nation’s history. Even so, his approach was more like flying in a jet surveying the scene below. Very high level. We learned the information, and he was a great storyteller, but the point was passing our AP exams; to understand causation and overall impact so that we could write about it well. I think this is true for even the better history classes our children learn in today. They are either the half-truths that gloss over actual facts, or they are merely a collection of them from a distance which neglects to discuss what our history means for the everyday lives of people today.

I can’t speak for all people of color, but I think that for many who belong to big close families, there is an inherent need to pass on our oral histories of “how we overcame.” I can’t think of one elder that hasn’t shared what it was like to grow up in America (particularly in the South) and how much harder life had been because of their blackness. And they didn’t share to incite anger, or frustration but rather to inspire the next generation by their fortitude and encourage us to be kids and later adults who could persevere because they knew we’d need to. I was blessed to grow up with older family members who loved to share their life stories and fill in the gaps of what the schools either refused or were unprepared to teach. My greatest observation was that though they had lived full lives of love and family, they all knew that their lives were not valued in society in the same way (if at all) by the country they still loved.

I poignantly remember my grandfather’s stories of his service in the Korean War. He shared that often the “negro” soldiers were placed on the front lines so as to be the first to die and in one instance, he had been part of group that went ahead to detect land mines. He witnessed a comrade being blown up. The fact that experiences such as these had not left him broken and bitter were only a testament to his faith and character.

Kristen: Amen. Thank you for sharing about your family, their service, and their overcoming mentality. It’s an inspiration.

Now, as a teacher and mother, how has this knowledge shaped the way you educate your kids and students?

Amanda: In undergrad, I majored in secondary education for social sciences and minored in African American studies. So as a high school social teacher, I pride myself in providing my students with a complete picture of the world they live in without bias. I ask my students to come to conclusions based on complete facts and solid reasoning. I try to be as neutral as possible because I think history, culture and other world studies speak for themselves when given proper context. So, when we discuss hard topics like slavery in America, or the Holocaust, or any other instance of human suffering, I don’t shy away from delivering the full complete picture, but it’s important they put all this in proper perspective and investigate the “whys and how’s.” Like, why it was possible for slavery to exist in the country so long? What could be the potential impact of these things? What does this mean for you? Where is your place in this narrative or how does this impact how we live today? I guess I don’t ever want my students to simply parrot me, but to instead, walk away from our brief time together better understanding the world so they can be better citizens in it.

As a parent, my approach is far less academic, LOL… I have had to be very REAL with my children, more so than I ever imagined, especially so young. Raising children is hard, but raising black boys today is especially so. Much like my students, I also wish to teach my children HOW to think, not WHAT to think. But in an effort to try and keep them safe and heighten their awareness of the world they live in, I don’t have the luxury of just letting them explore to just figure it out. In so many life lessons, we’ve had to throw out the debate about what’s “fair” or “just” when it comes to what they can or can’t do, because at the end of the day, we are teaching them not just how to thrive, but basic survival skills. Our conversations are laced with lots of “though it’s not fair…this is why you must do things this way or not do things that way.” They understand that until the world is different (which may only be a hope of Heaven) they must engage in it differently than their peers.

Kristen: Your thoughtful answer about your students proves what I already knew—you’re an awesome teacher, and I applaud how you’re championing them to take hold of their future.

And as a mom, your words brought me tears. As a white woman, please accept my apology. I am sorry for the way the world is, and we on the Sharing Our Stories blog series hope the words we put out to the world plant seeds and change hearts and minds.

Now, Amanda, you were our senior class president, a top dog, a stellar student, and super popular—in a predominantly white high school. Our class wasn’t very diverse statistically speaking, and though our area of town gets more diverse each year, it’s still a predominantly white school. Did being a person of color in leadership amongst a lot of white peers affect you in any way, good or bad?

Amanda: One of my most vivid memories was of running for class office in middle school. I had shared with what was known at the time as my gifted teacher, my intention to run for student government president. He told me, “Amanda, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t want your feelings to get hurt if you don’t win. Though you are well-liked, it’s not likely they will vote for a black person.” Of course, I went home devastated and shared what was said with my mother. She was furious and marched into school the next day, demanded a meeting, and explained that under no circumstances should he ever attempt to tell her daughter what she could or couldn't do on the basis of her skin color. She went on to help me decorate a GAZILLION posters and craft my election speech. Now I don’t know if it was the bombardment of posters, the carefully prepared speech, or that it was 8th grade, and I had a lot of friends, but I won!

Nevertheless, his words still scarred me. They made me believe that even those teachers I thought cared for me and knew me, saw me first as black. I think much of my desire to lead was to prove my worth, and it’s something I had to unlearn as an adult and am still “unlearning.” I have had to recalibrate my own understanding of what gives a person value and dignity. And interestingly enough, it has nothing to do with leadership ability or accomplishments.

Kristen: Thank you for sharing that story. I never knew this, but I’m so glad you didn’t let his hurtful words define you or stop you from leading us! I’m wondering, did you feel you had the same opportunities as your fellow white peers in school? Have you felt that way as an adult?

Amanda: This is a tough one. There’s been a lot of conversation around the word “privilege” in recent years. And though I don’t disagree with the tenant that in America, whiteness affords a certain privilege over peoples of color, I also can’t say that it’s a one dimensional conversation. I too grew up with a certain amount of privilege, but mine were attached to socioeconomics. We weren’t rich by any stretch, but I came from a household with two working parents (four really because I have step-parents whom I adore), lived in a middle-class neighborhood where we were THE ONLY Black family for 15+ years, and I was involved in “all the things.”

I was an athlete, a decent scholar, attended church regularly, and had a loving stable family. I am also a black woman and, statistically, tend to fare better than my brothers of color. So, on its face, yes, I seemed to have similar opportunities as my peers for a myriad of reasons.

However, as an adult, I’ve come to realize that so much of opportunity is about exposure. Though I had things, there was a lot about the world that I didn’t know, because it had not been a part of my parents or their parents (and so on) experience. And this lack of knowledge affects so many of the decisions that are made. For example, how does one choose a college to attend (my grandparents went to the ones that accepted blacks and my parents went to the ones they could afford coming from poverty). So, for my family, going to college and finishing was the ultimate goal, so just pick one!

Now don’t misunderstand me, I do not regret my choice in school. It was some of the best years of my life. It’s where I became a Christian, where I met my husband and now father of my children and where I made lifelong friendships. But no one who understood how the system worked (counselors, teachers etc.) shared with me that given my grades, test scores, and extracurricular activities, I had options. No one encouraged me to dream big like they did for so many of my friends. And I can’t account for why not. This is only one example, but I saw this in so many other areas of life.

Kristen: I’m frustrated for you, but so appreciate your willingness to share and the amount of grace you demonstrate in doing so, which brings me to my last question.

As a brother and sister in Christ, I want to be a good listener and be a part of changing our culture’s misgivings, especially when it comes to racial unity. I believe you feel the same way. What’s something you want someone like me to know? To do? That you feel could help us meet this goal. Maybe something you never been able to say out loud? I’m listening! And so are our readers.

Amanda: You know, I have often said that I don’t expect much from “the world.” When people outside of the body of Christ act without love, refuse to listen and affirm, and perpetuate the systems that seek to uphold the status quo, it may sting, but I recognize that I can have no expectation of these things where Jesus does not reside. But...when my family in faith refuses to acknowledge these truths, it’s especially painful. How can one who says they value life from the womb to the tomb as it were, disregard the cries of an entire people group when they say they’re hurting? Systematic racism exists. I think when some white people hear this, they think a finger is being pointed AT them personally. And they say, “I didn’t do anything. I’m kind to my neighbor. So, this argument is flawed, because I am proof things have changed.”

What’s interesting about this stance is that as believers we understand that through Adam’s original sin, and not necessarily through any action of our own at birth, we are born into sin. We have inherited a “system” because of the actions and fallenness of our ancestors. And we don’t take offense when people call us sinners. We rightfully shout, Hallelujah, thank God for a Savior. But when asked to acknowledge that the sins of forefathers have established systems that are present today which directly benefit white people and harm people of color, there is shirking away.

So, it makes me question, is it the sin you don’t want to acknowledge or the benefit you don’t want to lose? I love being an American, even with all its challenges. However, I think our national identity of being individualistic has eroded a central mission of the church. We’ve forgotten what it really means to live in community and to provide for the “least of these.” We’ve allowed ourselves to believe that if we’ve contributed to the can drive, coat closet, mission fund, we’ve done our part. Loving our neighbor means being willing to sacrifice some of our own comfort, so that “the least of these” can also live with dignity and without fear.

So, I would challenge us all to think about how we are really living out the Gospel mission.

I would also challenge believers to diversify their circles. @ohhappydani on Instagram sums the importance of “taking inventory of your inclusivity” nicely. She challenges us to take stock of whether we have diversity in the following areas: our inner circle of friends, the leaders we learn from, our place of worship, our beauty standards, the toys we buy our kids, and the businesses we patronize. Of course, this is not an exhaustive list, but it’s a great start. If you look at this list and realize the people in your areas all look the same, that should call for pause and reevaluation.

Kristen: Amen! I was literally clapping and nodding the first time I read your response. Readers, go back and reread those words again!

Amanda, you are a voice to be heard! Keep speaking! I’m hearing you and honored to know you. May God bless you and your family greatly for your courage and grace. Thank you for taking the time to share with us.

Readers, you can connect with Amanda on Instagram at @ladybrooks625.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: The things we say

Please Stop Saying …
A guest post by Kristen Rimer Terrette

“Slavery ended over 150 years ago … I never owned slaves … I’m not privileged. I’ve had hardships too … Everyone has the same rights now!”

Do these sentences make you sigh? Part of me wants to rant when I hear them. Part of me wants to cry. White brothers and sisters, can I speak solely to you for a moment?

In my experience, these words are usually said in defense by my well-meaning white friends or acquaintances who feel they haven’t contributed to racism or displayed hatred toward people of color. They feel they’re not part of the problem. And in part, that’s true, because they don’t use racial slurs, shy away from friendships with different ethnicities, and may work cordially alongside people who don’t look like them.

But my frustration with these statements is that they degrade people of color’s experiences with racism, prejudice, and injustice, as well as their victories.

They also put us, the white majority, in a position of complacency and indifference.

Let me lay out some realities …

A few weeks ago, November 14, 2020, marked sixty years since six-year-old Ruby Bridges walked into a previously, like literally until that very moment, all white school in Louisiana. What a brave little girl! What a courageous mother to send her that morning!

To back up a bit more, in May of 1954, only six years earlier, the Supreme Court ruled in Brown vs. the Board of Education that “state-sanctioned segregation of public schools was a violation of the 14th amendment and was therefore unconstitutional.” It took six years for this decision to trickle down to Ruby Bridges’ town. Six. Years. For a ruling over something that should have never been in place at all.

And my mother’s city, Chattanooga, TN, took even longer. It was 1963-1964 when her school desegregated. Almost ten years after Brown vs. the Board of Education ruling! Ten years for her school, and the surrounding area, to implement desegregation.

So, let’s talk some facts. I’m in my thirties (though my very late thirties, but let’s not go there). I have school-aged children, with one still in elementary. And my mother (my kids’ grandmother), who is only in her mid-sixties literally witnessed (as in a firsthand account) the very first black children being admitted into her previously all white grade school. And she was ten years old at the time—not a baby, not a kindergartener, but a child about to go into middle school.

This should put things in perspective for those who feel like the civil rights movement happened a long time ago. There is only one generation—mine—between the children who witnessed desegregation and the children who are seeing the racial tensions we’re witnessing now.

Only ONE generation.

Truth is slavery as an institution ended on paper roughly 150 years ago, but that’s only about six generations back by my count. And its oppressive affects lasted much longer. In fact, they are still being felt today.

Please, hear my heart, and let my information dump serve as a plea for us to live as Paul asks us to in 1 Corinthians 12. He eloquently discusses the importance of being of one accord in a passage aptly titled, Unity and Diversity in the Body (the church). According to this passage, Paul says in 1 Corinthians 12:25-26 (NIV), “so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” 

Our Christian brothers and sisters have stories to tell. Ones of grief and ones of triumph. So, we must rid our minds and tongues from the demeaning phrases above. And, instead, listen to people of color who still struggle with the painful effects of racism, but who are afraid to tell their stories because of the responses they get in return. We must also celebrate greatly all minorities who have accomplished so much in such a short amount of time instead of diminishing their victories with flippant responses or, and possibly even worse, by acting like we understand their pain in these areas.

Let’s take Paul’s advice and approach our diverse relationships by asking Jesus for spiritual eyes and ears to listen and celebrate each other. We are one body of Christ after all.

People of color, do you have a story to tell? We’re ready to listen, so let’s keep the conversation going! Comment below or on social media to tell us your story, whether one of heartache or victory. We want to listen, learn, and celebrate with you.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: Challenging the status quo

Challenging the Status Quo: Going Against Our Elders
A guest post by Kristen Terrette

Spiritual Elders. We all have them. They may be our church leaders or mentors. Or grandparents. Or parents. Or even our friends’ parents. 

Really, what I consider an elder is anyone with earned respect through evidence of wisdom and spiritual maturity. It’s a position garnered through life experience, and it warrants a level of reverence and humility in the mentee. It’s a place, even if figuratively, of honor.

But what happens when an elder lets you down? Are we, as the underling, allowed to combat them? Do we speak up about the injustice? Or are we supposed to halt our mouths?

I’ve been dealing with this struggle a lot lately when it comes to the tension amongst whites and black or brown people. It seems the moment you agree to take a stand and do your part in fighting racial injustice of any kind, the devil comes prowling to show you just how weak and unworthy of the cause you are.

I’ve dealt with family members who don’t see eye to eye with my views on interracial dating or marriage. I’ve had someone who went to school with my husband incorrectly assume I’d be offended if I had a biracial grandchild one day. These were handled, hopefully, appropriately when I carefully stated I did not agree with their opinions. But recently, I was confronted not once, but twice with an uncomfortable situation with an elder.

And now, I’m feeling like I didn’t handle it correctly. That I let God and the people of color in my life down. Let me explain.

I was at an event with many childhood friends, and a man I’ve known a long time proceeded to tell a racist joke. My back was turned away from him at the time. He wasn’t close by but made an effort to tell the awful joke loudly so all could hear it. I froze, not knowing what to do. I decided to pretend I didn’t hear him, to ignore him. Maybe that way he’d leave having gotten no reaction from his audience. And no one, to my knowledge because I had my back to them, did indulge him. I didn’t hear laughing or comments. And honestly, it happened so fast, I thought: Okay, I reacted somewhat appropriately to that despicable joke which completely disgusted everything inside of me.

But then, hours later, he drew near once more and told another racist joke. A different one, like he had plenty to choose from, all stored away in his mind to pull forth when he wanted. I was facing my friend and, again, not him at the time. Both our eyes went wide. Our expressions turned angry and red as we, through the eye stare only close friends can have, silently asked each other, “What do we do?” I steeled my body against the rage. We rolled our eyes and made extra effort not to allow any movement or sound escape. We silently told one another not to let him even think he got a laugh out of us. 

But I didn’t say anything. Didn’t call him out for this repulsive humor. Didn’t stand and leave the area with a snarl he could see. Didn’t make sure, absolutely sure, he knew I didn’t think his jokes—or rather insults—were funny, that they in fact not only offended people I love but offended me as well by him thinking he could tell them in my presence.

And see, this man is a devoted church member. He’s raised a daughter with a beautiful heart and love for God. He prayed over the microphone for our dinner. He openly talks about Jesus, His Savior, which makes this situation so hard.

But, in prayer, I realized that I witnessed a blind spot in this man’s soul exposing itself. We all have them—blind spots. They’re a deception placed on us by the enemy. A part of our self that needs work, but a part that the devil has covered up carefully so that we don’t even notice it’s causing problems in our journey with Jesus.

My battle is not with this man, but with the enemy, so I must pray his blind spot is revealed to him (as I pray mine are to me as well). And I must ask God for forgiveness over my failure, and that He, in His glorious mercy, will give me opportunities to redeem myself.

I want to be respectful to my brothers and sisters in Christ, but I also want to stand up for my brothers and sisters in Christ. And as I’ve dwelled and prayed over this, recalling those few seconds after he concluded the joke, the conviction in my heart tells me I should have done more. This person told two racist jokes in my presence, and, elder or not, I should’ve reacted better and differently, defending openly my beloved people of color. I should’ve fought for them and the heartache his flippant words caused.

Will you, person of color, also forgive me, please? I am sorry I failed you. Will you also pray for me? Pray I have the courage and wisdom to combat respectfully anyone who may be in a position of authority, whether officially or superficially, over me when needed? Pray I’m able to stand up for justice, love, and my fellow Christian brothers and sisters without faltering?

I can do better. More. I will. For you. For my children. For my grandchildren.

And for yours.

~*~

Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: Introducing the writers

Introducing Marie W. Watts, in her words:

The day my brother participated in Little League tryouts is etched in my mind. The third graders took the field, a coach hitting balls to them. I watched as a boy at shortstop reached for a slow-moving grounder hit right to him and let it roll between his legs. A terrible realization seized me. Although I could play baseball better than that little boy, I would never be allowed on the field because I was a girl.

You see, my father was an extraordinary man. Because he had led a sheltered life before being thrown into combat in WWII, he was determined that neither me nor my younger brother, would suffer the same fate. I learned to play ball, ride a bike, and mow the lawn along with my sibling.

Both of us were expected to go to college and to succeed academically. It’s remarkable, really, that I was under the illusion that my brother and I were equals until I was in fourth grade.

I expressed rage at the indignity of it all. My wonderful dad and mom did not try to put me in my place or tell me that’s just how it was. He coached a group of my girlfriends, and we had our own baseball team. Unfortunately, we could only practice. No other female teams existed at the time.

Over the years, other incidents have occurred to remind me that, while things are better, the playing field is not level. Women, persons of color, the disabled, those of certain religious faiths, low-income Americans, and the LGBTQ community struggle in various ways.

Thirty years of my career were dedicated to ending employment discrimination and teaching diversity to thousands of Texas employees. Prodding me to push forward was the disappointment, dejection, and fury I felt that day on the tryout field.

Each of us has a moral responsibility to leave this world better than when we arrived. Yes, we can vote, write our politicians, and donate to charities. But there are things we must do when interacting with others to show our commitment to change.

Over the coming year, I will be sharing ideas and skills to help control the biases and prejudices in each of us. Only by taking a fresh look at how we interact with those who are different from us and changing ourselves can we tackle the systemic racism/sexism in this country. If each of us takes responsibility for leveling the playing field even a fraction, the unfair barriers will begin to crumble.

~*~
Author Bio:

Marie W. Watts is a former employment discrimination investigator and human resource consultant with over twenty-five years of experience. In pursuit of justice in the workplace, she’s been from jails to corporate boardrooms seeing the good, the bad, and the ugly of humans at work.  

Her on-the-job observations came in handy when she co-authored a textbook about how to behave at work, Human Relations 4th ed. Additionally, her work has been published in the Texas Bar Journal and the Houston Business Journal as well as featured on Issues Today syndicated to 119 radio stations, NBC San Antonio, Texas, and TAMU-TV in College Station, Texas.

A popular diversity and employment discrimination trainer, Marie has trained thousands of employees to recognize their own biases and prejudices and avoid discriminating against others in the workplace. She has brought her experiences to life in the trilogy Warriors For Equal Rights about the struggles of ordinary people who work at the little-known federal agency, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC).

She and her husband live on a ranch in central Texas. In her spare time, she supports a historic house and hangs out with her grandsons. For more information about Marie and her stories about life, visit www.mariewatts.com.

~*~
Connect with Marie:
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/marie-w-watts
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/mariewattsbooks
Twitter - https://twitter.com/MarieWattsBooks
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/mariewattswriter/
Linkedin - https://www.linkedin.com/in/marie-w-watts-5b2a2b/