Dear Mr. Ellison
By Vivian Denise Nixon

You were a man.
I am a woman.
There is a difference.
Our Mother is Africa.
There is a connection.
You have become spirit.
My flesh still lives.
Your seed blossomed
in the fertile soil of
Harlem’s Renaissance.
My seed struggles
among greedy thorns.
You embodied integrity.
I gave my honor for
a season of luxury.
You boldly exposed the
afflictions of our people.
I rejected my light suffering
and bowed down
to the golden calf.
Your revelation of invisibility
is a precise portrait of
my brothers.
You have made them visible.
I remain
the invisible woman.
My sisters,
exiled with me
are invisible too.
Teach me how to paint
a picture of us.
Show me how to force
the world to see us.
Dear Mr. Ellison,
we have never met, yet
page after page,
we have cried together.
May I call you Ralph?

My refusal to filter what I am thinking gets me in trouble sometimes, but I consider this blog a safe space. After all, it’s not as if I am in a room with you infringing upon your audio space with my unwanted diatribe. You have chosen to come to this space and read this blog. I count that as permission to be brutally honest.

I am sick (let the church say, “and tired”) of the idea that it’s alright to make money by taking advantage of the ignorance of the masses! I am not an economist, but I do believe that the proper function and value of a free market economy is sullied by unchecked greed and unethical application. Selling useless products to an unknowing and unsuspecting public is NOT a healthy application of free market theory. Furthermore, taking advantage of vulnerable populations: the elderly, the poor, the undereducated, the uninformed, the sick, the mentally unstable, the lonely, and victims of economic collapse (or any other type of victim for that matter) may be an easy way to make money, but it should never, not EVER, be called a ministry!

God is not contained on a piece of cloth, in a bottle of water, or in bottle of pills. God cannot be bought, sold, or otherwise manipulated. God is not a magician. God does not pull rabbits out of hats, make things mysteriously disappear or reappear, or intentionally endanger us just to prove God can rescue us.

Lest I be misunderstood, please know that I am not making a blanket accusation against all income generating ministries, nor I am opposed to giving money to religious causes. There are counseling ministries, educational ministries, and social service ministries that actually help people use faith to navigate their way through the vicissitudes of life. Giving to churches is a necessary component of organized religion. Churches need funds to pay administrative costs, maintain physical property, and (in the best examples) provide needed services in the communities in which they operate and elsewhere.

I do not protest these reasonable applications of free market theory as it pertains to the practice of religion. I am perturbed by a particular type of exploitation that takes needed income out of the pockets of very vulnerable people in the name of God, while promising them something that the seller cannot ever deliver.

Despite the fact that I want nothing more right now than to stand up and walk without pain, I recognize and accept, that there are no religious products I can buy to make that happen. Moreover (and perhaps more controversial in some circles), I do not expect God to wave a magic wand and make the pain go away. I believe in every fiber of my being that there is a God. My faith in God and attention to the teachings and example of Jesus Christ has guided me through many dangers, toils, and snares. But in no case did this happen in the magical, non-participatory way that is promoted by some charlatans. Each major trouble in my life, each seemingly insurmountable obstacle, each apparently fatal mistake, has been overcome through a combination of faith in God’s grace and power and actions I took on my own behalf while trusting that God would act in the places that I could not.

I was in terrible pain a few weeks ago. I had to seek out medical professionals, have the necessary examinations and then allow a skilled surgeon to repair the damage. I prayed that the surgery would go well. I had faith that it would, and that I would one day walk pain free again. But, I also researched the educational and professional background of the surgeon. I pray that the post-surgery healing will be complete. But I will also obey the doctor’s orders and participate in physical therapy as often as needed.

I do not discount the fact that there are some cases in history where God has intervened supernaturally despite the inactivity of humankind, but I do not try to rationalize or explain those instances. I just believe them to be. I certainly would not try to harness Divine intervention and sell it in the form of a bottle of holy water, or a miracle handkerchief. I simply accept the fact that there are some things that we will never be able to fully explain. A great AME Bishop, John Hurst Adams, once preached a sermon during which he said the following: “If we got here by evolution – God was the evolver. If we got here by creation – God was the creator. If we got here by a big bang – God was the banger!” That’s the simplest way to illustrate how one can be both intellectual and spiritual in thinking.

This morning I turned on the television looking for inspiration. I was frustrated and bored because I have been at home recuperating and still have a long healing journey ahead. Instead of inspiration for my journey, I found people seeking to take advantage of my need. I was thrown sales pitches for everything from miracle healing vitamin pills to bottled holy water. What I needed was someone to encourage me to keep on taking care of my body and keep on having faith in that which I do not see.

The day is coming to a close now and I have found the inspiration and encouragement I need. I found it inside myself. I found it in the historical narrative of God’s unfailing grace that has continued to unfold in my life.

This morning a good friend of mine asked me a simple question: “What’s up with your blog?” That caused me to contemplate the reasons that I have not blogged for the past couple of months. The list of excuses is long: work, health issues, etc. But the truth is that I failed to write because I never intended to use the blog as a dumping ground for my daily complaints. My intent is to inspire people. Whining is rarely inspirational! And lately I’ve been doing a lot of complaining: about being overworked and understaffed, about having a knee injury that has left me practically incapacitated, about having to wait so long for my mortgage to be finalized and the construction in the new condo to be done. Complaints, complaints, complaints! Whine, whine, whine!

I answered my friend: “I’ll blog when I have something positive to blog about. I don’t want my readers to pick up on my negative mood.” But the more I thought about it, the more my NOT blogging seemed antithetical to the reasons I started the blog in the first place. I began this blog to keep myself focused and to demonstrate to readers how they could stay on the road to spiritual, physical, and emotional health in the midst of ALL of life’s circumstances. If I continue to take the position that I should not blog during times of trouble or doubt, I will defeat the very purpose of www.feedingfaith.com.

Acknowledging the difficulties that we face in our everyday lives is a healthy response. Denial is unhealthy. We must be careful not to confuse denial with faith. To say, “I claim victory in the name of Jesus” in the midst of a problem without actually acknowledging the concrete ways in which the problem impacts your life, and the thing you must do to manage the problem, is not faith – it’s denial. Faith requires that we face what we know to be the current reality and still see “things unseen” and “things hoped for” beyond that reality. Talking (or blogging) about things that trouble us can be an act of faith – a step toward accepting and managing the vicissitudes of life and envisioning a victorious future, by faith.

Today I recommit myself to this blog and to the process of facing and managing trouble. Yes, there are overwhelming professional and personal challenges set before me in the coming weeks. Yes, the pain in my knee makes accomplishing even the smallest task an ordeal. I acknowledge what’s true and I will do what is required to tackle the work and manage my health. As I remain grounded in the present reality, I look toward the hills for a faith that helps me envision victory beyond the challenges and beyond the pain.

I thank God for the mountains,
And I thank God for the valleys
I thank God for the storms He’s brought me through.
For if I never had a problem,
I wouldn’t know that God could solve them,
I’d never know what Faith in God could do!

Initially this blog was going to be about food and fitness.  I had mistakenly left faith out of the mix.  I made many false starts beginning in January 2009.  I would eat healthy for a few days and then inevitably return to making poor choices.  I couldn’t figure out why.  I was happy with my career.  I had accomplished some long term goals that I set out to achieve in March of 2001 when I was released from prison. – Oh yes, for those of you who do not know me, I’ve made many bad choices in my life.  Some of those choices caused me to acquire undesirable societal labels (in addition to that of “fat person”) such as “felon, ex-con, and criminal”.  The shame of that experience alone has crushed many and might easily have crushed me, but it did not.  By faith I rejected defeat and shame and vowed to help others do the same.  The bible calls that “beauty for ashes” (Isaiah 61:3).  But I digress.   Back to my original train of thought…

I couldn’t understand why, after having overcome so much, I continued to be held captive, or imprisoned—if  you will—by my own body.   By June of 2010, I seriously considered weight loss surgery.  I made an appointment for pre-surgical screening. When I arrived the nurse practitioner gave me the gruesome details about the surgery and explained the rigorous and restrictive dietary practices I would have to observe for the rest of my life.  Even so, I signed on.  I began the pre-surgery detoxification regimen (which is a liquid diet) in June 2010.  Then something happened…..

As my body detoxified, my thinking process was clarified, and my faith in something both within and beyond myself was fortified.  I decided to look, not to the skillful hands of a bariatric surgeon to free me, from myself but rather to look to the God to whom I have always looked to release me from the emotional, spiritual, and physical prisons I’ve been in over the course of these 50 years.  “I will lift up my eyes to the hills— From whence comes my help? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2)

One thing I now know for sure is that my obsession with food has nothing to do with physical hunger. There is a deep and abiding need in each of us to connect to something outside ourselves.  We seek to fill that void with people and activity.  I believe that there is a place in each of us that can only be filled, and a peace that can only be found, when we acknowledge our limitations and relinquish control of the things we hope for while having faith that something beyond ourselves is working on our behalf.  Every bad decision I’ve ever made has probably been made in an effort to fill a void that I can never fill on my own.  The frantic search to fill that void has haunted me and its terror has taken many forms.

I often tell a story about an oil painting that hangs in my living room. It is not a cheerful painting.  Its color scheme consists mostly of muted grays and blues with little distinction between the background and foreground.  In the center of the painting sits a large clay structure that resembles an abandoned prison.  The building is surrounded by a series of ladders that seem to lead to nowhere.  The scene is very cold and very empty.  The sun is not shining.  The sky is overcast with clouds.  At first glance there appears to be no living creature in the painting:  no people, no vegetation, and no animals.

When I first saw the painting in a gallery more than 20 years ago, I felt drawn to it because I thought the artist had crafted an image that represents my greatest fears.  It was, to me, a concrete way to face those fears.  I stared at the painting for several minutes and gradually noticed that in the center of the scene there is a hunched over women walking toward the deserted building.  The woman (who is typically not noticed until I point her out to onlookers) appears to be searching for something.

I bought that painting more than 20 years ago because it served to remind me then, as it does today, to look in the faces of the people I pass by on the street and realize that they too are searching for things that they cannot yet see, searching for what lies at the top of ladders that seem to lead nowhere, searching for faith and hope.  The need for connections to that which can feed our faith does not discriminate.  It’s not limited to the woman in the painting—it is a universal and common human need experienced by people who live in the mountains of West Virginia and in the high rises of New York City.  It is a need felt by residents of the mansions of South Hampton and tenants in the slums of Baltimore.  It’s a need that is present in country clubs and homeless shelters, church houses and crack houses, state houses and jail houses, pulpits and pews.

Sometimes we meet that need by filling our lives with superficial activity and rituals.  We jump from one activity to another, from one vice to another, from one addiction to another, from one relationship to another, from one job to another, and so on, seeking the magic solution.  When we put our hope and faith only in that which we can see and touch disappointment is inevitable. Stock markets crash.  Towers fall.  Levees break. Institutions collapse. Mortgages foreclose.  Relationships fail.  It does not serve us well to live as though we can instantaneously see and touch everything we need and want.

I have been to the depths in my quest to avoid relinquishing control and acknowledging my human need for faith.  You name it, I’ve  tried it. I can hardly type these words through the teary mist evoked by both the memory of the pain attached to the struggle, and gratitude for the lessons I’ve learned and mentors who’ve guided me.

I live everyday with the conviction in my spirit that have been guilty of neglecting my body – the temple that houses God’s creation. I am ready to change. What makes me believe that I can change my life now after years of trying to satisfy every human need with physical food and tangible substance? A mentor of mine once said, “When the pain becomes greater than the reward- you will make a change”. Well that day has arrived. The pain of being overweight has overtaken the anesthetizing effect of the comfort foods I have craved all my life. I eat and I still feel whatever it was I was trying to eat away: lonely, rejected, unattractive, misunderstood, unloved – all the stuff that gets in the way of being the glorious creature that I was created to be. By faith, I have found the courage to peel back the layers and confront whatever emerges from the dark so that it may be swallowed up by the light.  I am not changing my life to be thin. I am changing my life to be whole. That’s the difference!

If I am to succeed in shedding the pounds that keep me imprisoned in my own body, I cannot focus on food and fitness alone.  I must feed my faith.  I must feed it daily.   The challenges I encounter, the lessons I learn and the revelations I receive will be revealed here. This is not a weight loss blog, it’s a place where I will share musings, opinions and testimony in an effort to remind myself and others that I am more than my weight. I am a mind at work and a human spirit in development. In the process, with healing, my body will become what God would have it to be. I hope you’ll read, comment, and share.  Come and dine with me.  Feed your faith.  All are welcomed at the table.