Uncategorized

The Family

Growing up I thought my dad had all the answers. Mainly because he had all the answers to every question I ever asked. Obviously, in my youthful mind, dad just knew everything. He was cool, never rattled about anything. And on top of that, he could build a basketball hoop out of a bed frame and some plywood. Clearly he was awesome.

My mom worked extremely hard. She was a RN. Her jargon was completely medical. Everything could be explained with medical metaphors and that infamous pathology book. She wasn’t laid back at all like my father. And her sense of humor was – well, medically morbid. My friends found her scary. She wasn’t one you’d want to test. My brother took a mean right hook from her once so I don’t blame them.

My brother Steven, the recipient of the before mentioned right hook, was my hero. I thought he could do no wrong. He was athletic, all my brothers were. But he was the oldest and in my eyes that made him bigger and stronger than the other two. He also had an uncanny habit of doing my spelling and math homework whenever he was talking to girls on the phone. All I had to do was wait until he got on the phone and ask for help. God bless him.

Brian, my very strange middle brother, is more like me than my other two siblings. Though he didn’t say much, I blame that completely on the headless chicken incident, but when he did I always found myself hanging on every word! It was normally a single word like ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Or a shoulder shrug. You have to love the shoulder shrug. It conveyed so much of his emotions. Even with the silent body language, I knew my weirdness matched his weirdness and that was a bond we’d always have.

Now on to my brother Tim, affectionately called Tim Tim by my parents and Timty by me. As a child he was humbly introverted. Wicked temper though! The boy could hold a grudge like a dog with a bone! He was two years older than me. I use to tag along behind him as much as possible. He was smart. Smarter than the average bear. His brain was like a sponge. He retained every drop of information he heard. It was like living with an encyclopedia. A well of knowledge was walking around my house and I loved knowledge. So of course I followed him everywhere. I was picking his brain.

This was my immediate family. The people who provided the many experiences that made growing up a Williams so memorable and so worthy to be told about.

Advertisements
Life, ministry

A Weary Soul

My spirit is weary,
Yet, the grace of God continues to strengthen me.
I live in a society where, if I acknowledge the racism I’ve dealt with then I’m part of the problem because I am told “If you don’t talk about racism it’ll go away.”
I hear my friends say ” Martin Luther King would be rolling over in his grave if he could see what his people are doing.”
Apparently every black person who cries out against injustices needs to stop because slavery ended over a hundred years ago.
And that we need to worry about black on black crime, because clearly no other race commits crimes against each other in a high percentage, no wait, they do.
My spirit gets weary because I know I am judged by the stereotypes of my race before the content of my character. I know that’s how it is, but I’m not supposed to talk about those things, because if I don’t they’ll stop happening.
My flesh wants to rise up when I hear people say “I don’t see color or race.” Yes you do and that’s ok. Our cultural differences is not always a bad thing.
To dismiss what it’s like living in black/brown skin when you never have is insulting.
But this is why I can continue to love beyond the mess. Ephesians 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

ministry

Finding the Balance

When I first became a youth minister I found that God was going to require more time from me and so were the children at my church, Sowing The Seeds Of Faith Ministries. The first thing I did was ask God if he was sure I had what it takes to be a minister. Even though I was already doing the work I had many doubts. My main one was, I don’t look or act like a minister. I’m not locked into traditions, I have tattoos and to some people’s dismay, I have dread locks.

Yes, I love Christ, working with the children, most of the time, and being a part of a congregation that worships with all their hearts, but I did not feel like I had arrived yet. And many elders looked at me the same way. They were so much more knowledgeable and had more experience and seemed to have all the time in the world to be ministers. Where as I was struggling to be the perfect mom and wife.

Yes, perfect.

I found that I could effectively schedule time to be in every place I was suppose to be, but life had a way a knocking me off the perfect path I had set for myself. My kids needed me outside of the allotted time scheduled for them. My husband wanted to invade the time I scheduled for the church. I stuck to my guns, I tried anyway, and that seemed to cause even more problems. Problems that when they arrived gave me cause to ask God “Are you sure you want me to minister? I can barely schedule my time.” Many nights I prayed that God would make me perfect for the job. I even cried about how bad of a wife and mother I was. Ministry was something that didn’t come easy to me. I felt like if I lacked in motherhood, how could I thrive as one of God’s teachers?

It was a very lonely feeling.

I remember one day when I was at a very low moment, depressed and discouraged, and I wanted to give up. I felt like it was too hard. Like I wasn’t strong enough. And then the song “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” came on and it was like Jesus was talking to me! “If you need me, call me. No matter where you are. No matter how far. Just call my name I’ll be there in a hurry. You don’t have to worry…”. My spirit was lifted almost instantly. I may not have been perfect, but I was chosen.

And then one day I sat down and wrote out everything it was that I did each day. From errands to family game nights. What I saw amazed me! No everything wasn’t done perfectly in the times I designated for them, but they were done! So my girls didn’t always have the best  and ironed clothes, they had quality time that they enjoyed. And my husband didn’t have to come home and worry about meals or chores, some how God had helped me accomplish everything I had written for my self to do.

It was a moment of enlightenment, that I realized that all that worry and stress was for nothing. I may not be the best at everything, but I’m pretty good at most of it.

Life, Novels, Stories, Uncategorized

Under the Influence of X-Ta-C

Under the Influence Of X-Ta-C is a collection of short stories and poems that I wrote in my early to mid-twenties. The title was inspired by my best friends. In high school we had a singing group called X-Ta-C. We were going to be the next TLC!

And En Vogue, SWV, Jade, etc.

The girls, who grew into awesome women, have been a constant in my life. Which means they have inspired some of the most ridiculous, random thoughts I’ve ever had. And I thank them for it!

One section of the book was co-witten by Ladye Dempals and it is pure silly madness that probably only makes sense to us. And that section was specifically written for my girls of X-Ta-C.

There’s a lot of emotions and themes through out the collection. Some can easily get lost. (Good thing they’re only short stories) In my early 20s I had a lot going on.

A lot. Going. On.

But if you love to laugh and sometimes cry, take a peek at this collection of short stories and poems.

You can find Under the Influence of X-Ta-C on lulu.com. Pen name Krystle Nyte.