Mustard Seed

“You’ve got to make the camera do what you want it to do,” said Bobby Wiggins, one of my friends — an accomplished photographer — said with my camera in his hands, with his frame hunched over my car window frame. I gingerly shook my head as my eyes widened with curiosity and intimidation as he pointed out the endless capabilities of my camera. “But at the end of the day, the best way for you to learn is to go out and shoot.” And that’s what I did.

Breathing

I like to think that when I was born, the nurse placed me in my mother’s arms and there I laid, nestled at her breast ever so comfortably. In my mind, I think about how my mother might’ve felt the first time she saw me; she saw all the hopes and dreams she had for my future....I was battling a serious bout of depression, which led me to be diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder. However, because I am a black woman in a society that doesn’t see me or the importance of mental health, it is very difficult to envision a future for myself.

Midweek

I scan the dimly lit auditorium and see cream, beige and black congregants filling the auditorium with bellowing, yet energetic vigor. Young, married and old — all in unison. Another thing I notice as I look around — this place is lowkey packed. It isn’t just your handful of “ye faithfuls.” I have never seen anything like this before. Everyone on one accord, a semi-packed “sanctuary” and church members of all ages — sanging. Little did I know, there was more to this seemingly utopian worship experience.

Never Question God

I spend many nights reflecting on a sentiment I was taught since birth — never question God. As I meander into adulthood, my faith has truly begun to be tested. When I am struck by adversity, I impulsively rationalize if my God is even with me. But then I remind myself — never question God.