Mama's house smells of onions and garlic. Chicken is probably dissolving into a large pot of pinto beans, collards gurgling under a nearby lid. The house is not so neat, but warm and full of comfy spots. There are more bibles nesting about than Gideons in the nearby motel. Someone always seems to be exclaiming “Praise the lord!” from around a corner.
I enter the kitchen, my demeanor bespeaking a hint of intranquility. I am allowing life's present circumstances dictate my temperament. Mama reminds me that the future is yet undetermined. We have the opportunity to tap into God’s supernatural Word daily, allowing it to boldly declare His promises over our lives. Jesus justified me, making me flawless, positioning me to receive all of God's favor. She tells me to speak nothing but success into my life. At least that is how Mama describes it as she ladles a healthy bowl of beans, placing a small serving of greens, a fist-sized hunk of hot buttered bread and a cool glass of a deep red colored sweet beverage to my right.