Journey to Empowerment Read Online Free PDF

before her, I knew I wanted to do it, too. I had to do it, too. So, through a runny nose and a sore, dry throat, I accidentally and joyously discovered the thing that shaped my life from that day to this very day: My mama was a magician and my mama was a teacher.

Music to Our Ears, Lyrics for Our Creative Soul
    B Y M ARIA D ENISE D OWD
    Listen and you will hear
    Her birdsong of synchronicity and rhythm.
    Breathe and you will smell
    Her flowers lay hands on rainbows.
    Touch and you will feel
    Her waters cavort with harmony.
    Watch and you will witness
    Her enchanting confections of
    Sun, moon, planets and stars…
    In perfect accord with man and womankind.
    Do you feel the vibrations of Her Spirit?
    T o know and assert your Spirit-guided creative self brings about a kind of joy that transcends all that is mundane and challenging in our lives. I can stake this claim because I, too, am a lifetime member of our Creator’s magnificent concerto.
    In God’s melodic universe, we are born genetically imprinted to pursue our creative propensities. We recognize it only when we open our eyes, ears and hearts to the spectacular art of Nature.
    This rhythm is made strikingly evident by the universe when feelings are stirred inside our souls by merely watching a sunset or tide come in. Every waking (and sleeping) hour, God delivers our sheets of music. Are you open to receiving?
    She calls upon us to be a part of Her sweet, sweet symphony. However, She only presents Herself just below the bass line…then, she waits unwearyingly. She waits for humankind to engage in its litany of life’s recitals. She waits for us to discover—at the appointed time and hopefully in this lifetime—our God-given vocations, then waits for us to begin our practice, and refine our workwomanship. Our Creator is our booking agent. She opens doors and presents opportunities.
    But what do too many of us do? Instead of getting to work on our creations, we are often a “no-show.” We shun our rehearsals by taking the easy, low or no road to death’s end. Instead of making music, we allow the bows of dictates, mandates, laziness, fatigue, hostility, sorrow or mania to overtake our artistic sensibilities. Rather than answering our Creator’s calls to compose works of art or science, we decompose. We hear no music because we tune it out. Consequently, we ruefully sap the song out of our lives.
    It’s not God’s intent for us to imitate, heckle, or nod our way through life. She calls for us to evict fear from the house (or, at least relegate it to the very last row), situate our creative energies onstage, and trust that She has taken the very best of box seats. When we follow our calling and do it wholeheartedly, She’ll reassure us with encores, and She’ll restring our hearts with faith. Our vocation is to embrace, not deny, our or anyone else’s lyrics. Then, sing praises to God.
    Whether your creative calling is to bear children, fruit, music, conferences, civics, grassroots causes, a cure for cancer or a mélange of many—know it, assert it and be guided by Spirit.
    I see the seedlings,
    The newness of God Stuff
    Growing before my eyes.
    And it fascinates me to no end,
    No end in sight.
    Only beginnings.
    â€”Maria Denise Dowd

Cultural Shock
    B Y C HERYL M. C OCROFT -N OBLE
    In nineteen hundred ninety-seven, fresh from Milwaukee, full of enthusiasm,
    I was introduced to another side of San Diego via the street people.
    Young and old, white and black, male and female lying in the streets, one leg, no legs, using their salesmanship on me, teaching me how to deal with my own personal doubts. You should never give up!
    I stared at first, not sure of what I saw, then I looked away, began to build a wall so I could go about my daily task of not becoming one of them.
    Not only women street people, but also women in transition, had a special effect on me because I, too, am a woman, you see. Yes, one could