Posts filed under: ‘sex change‘




B. SCOTT…drag QUEEN…

I just happened to come across this person while writing my last blog.  And after watching some footage of him I knew I had to write something on him.B-Scott-Head

Michael-Jackson-cuteHis name is B. Scott and he classifies himself as being androgynous… kind like what Michael wanted to be… somewhere between being male and female.

I have seen few people who have pretended to be as happy as B. Scott pretends like he is.  When I was in ‘the life’ I thought I was happy too.  But I never pretended like I was over joyed with it.  Over a period of time I just came to accept it… which I guess if you finally settle upon ‘this is who I am’ you tend to do.  You just start to kind of accept it.  Which is what B. Scott said he finally came to do.

Though I have seen thousands of gay guys and women who acted like they were super dupper happy being gay.  I had also seen them …many of them in the tears because they wished they could be like everyone else.

B-Scott-BET-AwardsWhen I watched this video on YouTube by B. Scott… the 1 below… it really prompted me to write this blog.  Because there were a few things that he said that really gave me insight as to who he is… and why.

(I’ve got to find the right video)  But in the YouTube video  B. tells of how people used to say to him when he was a little boy, ‘You so pretty you should have been born a girl.’

child-cryingIn hearing that it made me think of my son, who at the age of 13… 1 day broke down and started crying saying to me that I would never be a grandmother.  Then he said that he must be ‘gay’ because everyone told he that.

How could I defeat what he was saying?

At the time I was not saved.  I was speechless and did not know what to say.  I was shocked.

Today I big-horns-devil-maskwould rebuke that devil and call the devil and liar.  But that day… I was speechless.  I did not know what to say.

I must confess to being 1 of those gay mothers who was seriously homophobic… terribly.  But I never pushed my thoughts nor my fears over onto my son.    Well, I hope not… certainly never intentionally.   But there was a period in my life when florida-evanshe could nothing right.  I hollered at him about everything.  I did not realize that I was doing that though until a woman who was part of my film shoot on my short film… a niece to Florida of ‘Good Times’… pointed it out to me and talked to me about it.  She said, ‘Why are you always yelling at him?’

I never realized that I did.  But I am glad she brought it to my attention.  I might have drove my son away… but thank God that did not happened.  That big headed boy took me out to dinner last night… to very expensive sea img_2014food restaurant that we both like.  But I do not love him because he treats me to thing… or buys me stuff…  I love him because he is ‘my son.’  And I thank God for him.

I had never heard anyone call him that… that word… ‘gay.’   Though I think they were careful not to do so while I was around… as I would not have liked it.  Though I must say that at an early age I started to feel like I was seeing certain signs of it.  But here is where I want to tell you how the devil works.

You are not seeing anything that the devil has not put in your mind.  Your young children know 11354_loresnothing about sex… but the devil will toy with your brain and make you believe you are seeing things which are not there.

You don’t believe me????

Let me share with you this.  One night while in my apartment in downtown Brooklyn…. as I was leaving the living room to go towards my bedroom I looked down at the floor.  Upon looking down I saw the floor was covered with large water bugs everywhere.  I Palmetto+bugmean swarming with them everywhere.  I quickly looked up and said to myself, ‘the devil is a liar.’
I don’t know where that came from… but that is what I said.  Then I looked back down at the floor and there were no water bugs anywhere.  It had 179293342all been a figment of my imagination… brought about from the devil knowing that I had a fear of those things.  Which came about by the fact that occasionally I would see a water bug in my apartment…  something that my landlord refused to believe.

But that night the devil had decided that he was going to drive me mad… meaning crazy by presenting to me a ton of those horrible things crawling all over my apartment floor around me… and they covered my entire apartment floor.  But I did not go crazy.  God kept my mind… because He did not let me fall for it.  I merely shut my eyes for whatever reason… (as I did not know it was God’s doing at the time)…  I just started believing that they were not there.  You would have had to seen them.  They were so real.

b+scott+kiss+kissThis is how I know that people can see things… which look as real as anything you can touch or feel… and it not really be there.  It was just something that the devil presented to me… and had made it appear real to me because he knew I was afraid of those things. Of which New York seems to me have quite a few of them.

http://www.glaad.org/blog/oregon-mother-charged-killing-her-son-because-she-thought-he-was-gay

???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????The woman in the above link killed her 4 year old son because she believed he was gay.  The devil truly had her mind that she would have done such an insane thing.  But he does and can plants seeds in your head… and make you see and hear things which are not really there.   And if you are not careful… and  you let them take root in you… you will believe what the devil has planted and will act out in whatever way he wants you to.

Play-TimeOne day I heard a friend of mine yelling at 1 of her grandsons… ‘Put that rope down, boy.  You ain’t no girl.’

What does having a jump rope in your hand have to do with being gay?

So, what if a little boy wants to jump rope.  It does not mean he wants to grow long hair and become a girl.

But my friend did not realize that she was planting seeds… that 1 day would grown into just what she was asking for.

I had wanted to badly to tell her that what she and other members in her family were doing to him in regards to African-American-Male-Depressedcalling her grandson a ‘girl’… or saying to him had some ‘girl in him’ was wrong.  But I knew they would not listen to me… so I did not.  But now in hindsight I realized I should have tried …if for no other reason other than for her grandson’s sake.

We must speak LIFE to your children.  And do not let anyone speak DEATH to them… not even in joking.  Calling your boy Adam+&+B.+Scottchild a girl is speaking death to him… or your girl child a boy.  Don’t do it.  Encourage them to have fun… let them enjoy themselves as children without you putting all your own sexual hangups upon them.

Bscott_2010So, when I watched and listened to the above video of B. Scott I realized just how he had come to be and why.  I understand him… not so much because of what my son had said to me.  But because I understand how little children can become confused as to who they are if people keep pushing them in some other direction by saying ignorant things to them that labelsmakes them believe what people are saying about them.  And I guess that does kind of fit directly with what my son had said to me.

My entrance into ‘the life’ was very different… it had nothing to do with anyone calling me a ‘boy.’   Because frankly I never looked like 1… nor did I ever want to be 1.  Though I wasn’t much of a baby doll playing little girl either.  I don’t think I tried climbing trees… but I did try my hand at trying to fix a couple of things when I was young.

57614780-450x303But being the oldest my youth was superseded by my having to learn how to do iStock_000005252441XSmall-300x199things at an early age… like washing dishes.  I do not know how old I was when my father pushed a chair up to the kitchen sink… but that was the beginning of my years of me being our family dishwasher.  Then I was taught how to cook… and the list goes on and on…

I was introduced to sex at a very early age.  Not via any family members but outside of our home.  Only twice had it happened.  But it happened before I had a voice or knew I had a voice or african_american_girl_1any idea of what was happening.  That is not to say I was an infant.  I was just a very young innocent child of maybe 6…7… or 8.   group-of-african-american-womenAnd the 2 times it happened they happened at varying times… not close or together.  Maybe a year or so apart… can’t remember that part.

I made mention on 1 of the times in 1 of my other blogs not so long ago.  It was a time that I almost got gang raped… but God said ‘no.’  That was the first time that someone took advantage of me.  But those 2 experiences marked my life forever… and how I think and feel about people who take advantage or abuse children.

But contrary to what many people may say or think… sexual preference many times may not have anything to do with what you were indoctrinated to… or let me say it this way first introduced to sexually.

Keyonte+2Though I have spoken to many gay guys and they had the opposite experience… and some women too.  It did lead them into a life of homosexuality.  And a lot of times it happened to them with someone who took advantage of them sitting in some position in b-scott-man-womanthe church… lived in their apartment building… was a close friend to their mother or father… and ‘yes’ even sometimes it was a relative… or a daughter or a son of the 1 their parent’s friend.  One of my times was such a case as that.  My mother must have known… as she never went to visit that friend ever again.

But going back to this guy B. Scott in watching his videos I felt sorry for him… because I understood him in ways that many people will never get to.  And I also recognized his gaiety… or supposed happiness… really to be his sadness.

me resized...Love you, B. Scott.  And hoping that 1 day God will do a work in your life like he did in mine.  I hope the same 2ab-the-bishop-wifecoverfor my son…. and the many sons and daughters dealing with identity problems… issues… or sexual confusion.

And I hope your laughter and smiles will become ‘real’… and turn into a joy that surpasses all understanding 1 day.

And that 1 day you will look into a mirror and see how really handsome you are… and start loving the ‘real’ you’ and not that the ones who 1452460_10200798820042084_848507925_nwere agents of devil told you were… but who God really made you to be.

Well, God bless…. I am really supposed to be doing something else right now.  But I just wanted to take the time to do this blog really quickly.  I hope that it falls upon fertile ground…

Thank you for reading this blog…and  my others.  Please be sure to continue to share this blog site with your family, co-workers and all your friends“pass it on…”  www.bsmith101.wordpress.com  ©2014


2 comments April 17, 2014

EXTREMISM…Chastity Bono

I had thought not to touch this story and just keep my private thoughts on it to myself…and share  them among friends only…and only if they asked me.  But after thinking about it I realized that I could not.

One of the things about coming out of something…is that you sometimes can become highly convicted in your stance against  whatever it is or was that you may have come out of.  Or in other words…things you no longer wallow in…or transgress in…indulge in…or no longer partake in…and was the way you used to be…etc…  So, you emerge from it  being  very strongly opposed to it.

You become very anti- it…about  whatever it was  or is that you used to do…or who you used to be…but now are not…or of  that which you no longer do…or indulge in.    You in fact…move all the way over to the far left side of the bar…and become an extremist regarding that issue…or thing that once had you bounded.  Usually, the farthest  you can get from it…emotionally and opinion-wise as well.

So, having already told you that I was once ‘in the life’  in several other blogs…meaning  I was a lesbian…gay…lived  in the homosexual lifestyle…then I feel I can freely talk on this subject.  But do not ask me anything about drugs or alcohol…or most of anything else…because I know little to nothing on such subjects…outside of the fact of what I have seen regarding the affects of them…or the after-affects of them.  That being said…

Chastity Bono, the daughter of Rock icons Sonny & Cher of the 70’s, decision to alter her sex…and the way that it is being presented in the media…really kind of disturbs me.  Not her decision to change her sex…because that is her choice…but it is the media (the type of coverage) on it that concerns me.

Having had been in the life for many years…some I don’t know…more than 30+ years…I have known many women.  But the people I knew…or should say know…as I still know them…and still converse with some of  them…though I do not hang out with them…but all of them were women who were happy to be women.  In fact…they celebrated their BLD056858[1]woman-ness… sought out places that were exclusively women… restaurants… bookstores… vacation spots… curise-liners… clubs… etc…

So, Chastity’s decision is not the norm… far from it, in fact.   Many lesbian women have no dealings with men.  And hate them for various historical reasons in regard to their lives and past histories.

Though today, I do see many more young girls trying to really do this thing…that is called ‘butch’ themselves up.  With the hanging pants…and all the other things they do.  But still it is not the norm.  And thank goodness for that.

http://www.tmz.com/2009/06/11/chastity-bono-becoming-a-man-2/?icid=main|hp-laptop|dl3|link3|http%3A%2F%2Fwww.tmz.com%2F2009%2F06%2F11%2Fchastity-bono-becoming-a-man-2%2F

Imagine this world…if  everybody decided that they wanted to u13351086[1]change who God created them to be?

How whacked out this place would be?

Some people would be walking around calling themselves some kind of animal…maybe this is a bit  extreme.  But not that far fetch… considering some of the things that some people involve themselves in.

I can’t image wanting to change my sex to become a man.  I am so happy that I never had that conflict.  I mean I have always wondered…how it is that men go to the bathroom when they do the number 2?  u18855339[1]

Do men sit on the toilet and have to hold that piece downward in their hands?   I don’t really know men like that as I was a lesbian.   So, I have no way of knowing.  But I do have a serious thing about germs.  I know I really wouldn’t want to do that.   I would be so afraid that I might touch some filthy toilet seat…if  I were out in public having to do that.   Though  rarely do I go to the bathroom while out.

And yes…I am a bit naive.  I do admit it.  There are many things that I do not know.

And since we are on the subject…   When they…men…stand over the urinals…all of that spattering…all over your pants legs.  Who wants to go through all of that?

Yes, I am happy to be a woman.  Though the men’s bathrooms tend to be a bit cleaner.   I have heard that.

But if…I were a man.  Why would I want to be a woman?

What would be the benefit of that?

s1051676[1]I am just so glad that God does the selecting and choosing…as to what we will be.  Could you imagine a more confusing situation than that?   Trying to choose whether your child would male or female.   Though some scientist have tried to come up with a way of doing just that.  And many countries  put a premimium on one sex over  the other…the male species.  Though without women this world would come to a very sudden and complete end.

But  going back to my original train of thought…I just could not see myself as being a man…or having ever wanting to be one.  And thank goodness none of my gay women friends have had to battle with that either…nor any of my male friends.

I can imagine the pain that one must go through having that conflict.  Because that has to be one very big and hard inward battle going on to decide to do such a thing.

The truth of the matter, however, is this…the mind plays tricks…and if you are not careful you will fall into the trap.  Of  believing something that is not so.

If  you look into the mirror every day thinking that you hate what looks back and that-

“I would look good as a man.”

Or perhaps…as a woman.  Sooner or later you will begin to believe that you should have been born a man or a woman.   You will also start to believe that you see certain characteristics or qualities about yourself…which in reality  have been sub-consciously taken on…and/or implanted in your sub-conscious…which may not  truly be there…and do not really exist.   But because it is what you want to see and  placed in your mind…it is what you will see.  So, if you desire to see certain things…over time you may come to believe that you see them.

Then in turn you will believe that those characteristics verify the fact that you should be…and are really something else other than what you are.  And so you come to the final conclusion that through some trick or error of  nature you were born a woman rather than a man…or visa versa.

All that kind of thinking is a head-trip…a real mind game.  You will see what you want to see…you will feel what you believe you want to feel.s1045511[1]

The mind is wicked…and highly deceptive.

For most of my life I have thought of myself as being unattractive…ugly in fact.  I never wanted mirrors arround…hated to take pictures…etc.   Because I hated seeing me.  It was not until I had to start taking pictures for my book cover…that I came to  realize that I am really not ugly.  In fact, I have to laugh…because of all the years I let get pass me believing myself to be ugly when I was not.

Then too, in my book I made a statement…which made me really 2ab-the-bishop-wifecoverhave to think.  I state in my book, THE BISHOP’S WIFE, how I had been stalked at least 3 separate times in my life.  After writing that…I began to think about what it was those people saw in me that would have lead them to want to do that.  When I know many good-looking people…very good-looking…exceedingly good-looking…and they had never been stalked.

So, why me?

This is when I thought…again.

Here it was all those years I never realized that I was not ugly.   Because of my profession and always being the public eye…people gravitated to me.  And people who listen to you over the radio…

Well, they just fantasize  about everything…and they all believe they love you.  But I could not have looked that terribly bad…to have problems with 3 separate people at various times in my history.

But I never really knew until I looked into those pictures for my book…that I wasn’t as bad looking as I had thought  I had been for all of my years.  It is amazing.  But it was a mind game…which for me came about when I started thinking that I was not as good-looking as any of my sisters or brothers…as a young child.  And that shaped my thinking of myself for all of these years.

My mind had me tricked…I saw that which my mind allowed me to see.  And so I lived under that shell all of my life until about 6 months ago.

Let me take a quick station break:  my book, THE BISHOP’S WIFE… is coming…. Yes, my book is  coming…I will definitely let you know when it is available for purchase.

Now…back to the subject.

I was deceived by my mind a 2nd time…when I fell into lesbianism.  But thank God…I didn’t sink so far down that I ever thought about mutilating myself…with a sex change.

http://www.usmagazine.com/healthylifestyle/news/chaz-bono-im-enjoying-life-as-a-man-20092910

And yes…I had met some hardcore women…who wore men’s clothes and under garments.  Some even who  thought it manly to beat up their lovers and/or girlfriends.  But I never heard any one of them talk about changing their sex…or wanting to do so…no matter how much outwardly they tried to emulate men.

Yes, though we were living in confusion…we were far from being that confused.  And I thank God…from removing me totally from it.  I no longer dwell in a ball of confusion…and under the cloud of lesbianism.

But the article that I read of  Chastity Bono’s decision to under-go a sex change was so accepting of it…as though it were a natual transition in life…something acceptable. I would hate to think that any poor child or teenage or another adult currently battling with issues over their sexuality…should read that  article and think that such a thing is either natural…or really acceptable.  Not acceptable to you or me…but for themselves.  As it goes against nature.

And there have been many articles and books written on the subject…some opposing and some pro.  But there have been many regrets regarding that whole process.  And I have seen much sadness and anguish among those fighting that battle.

As I mentioned in at least 2 other blogs…I did know a guy…who when I met him was in the process of under-going his sex change.  I met him as the women he presented himself  to me to be…as he had started coming to Salsa Soul Sisters meetingsa lesbian organization in New York City…and we all at the time  believed that he was a woman.  But from the time I met him…and I cannot call him ‘her’…I would be lying if I said that.  But from the time I met him…in the back of my mind I always felt that something about him was out of whack.

I have met many gay guys…but had never met one trying to become a lesbian before.  And neither had anyone else in Salsa Soul Sisters either…until we all met him…who presented himself as a woman to us all.   But when they found out…nothing could hold them back…those black lesbian women.

One night those women stormed into Salsa and turned that meeting out…because they were not having a biological man…turned lesbian…or turning lesbian…within their organization and on their board.  And they meant every word of it…and voted that night ‘that no one born biologically a man could ever sit on the board of Salsa Soul Sister, Inc. or become a member of  Salsa.’     That was their sentiment…and they were right.  I did agree…and still agree even though I am no longer a member.

The fact is…regardless of the pills and surgery…you will always be what God created…biologically.  You can change your name…your hair style…your walk…talk…even your game…or anything  and everything else you want to change.  But underneath it all…your real DNA…can’t be changed.  It can be confused…I guess with all that medication.   But  who you are…is who you are.  It is who you really are…and that can’t be changed no matter what.     No matter how much you dislike it…or dislike yourself.

I don’t know when I saw it…but it was on television.  I think it was a Barbara Walters’ special.  It was one of the saddest and most horrifying shows I had watched in my many years of watching TV.  It was a show on parents allowing their children to cross-dress.  Byk1261249[1] this I mean…there are parents who are allowing their very young pre-teen children…sons or daughters to decide that they were not whatever sex they had been borned…and dressing like whatever they wanted to be.

It was horrifying.  Truly, horrifying.

It made me sick to see a  4 or 5 year old being allowed to demean himself  or herself  in that fashion.   And they looked hideous.

At such young ages children being bred in a continuous state of high confusion…and their own parents abetting them in doing so.  It was terrifying…absolutely terrifying.

In one of those stories, Barbara visits with a family who allows their little boy to dress as a little girl…long hair…the whole 9 yards.   The little boy has a baby sister.  Her cup and everything about her is pink…while everything for him was blue…do note the word ‘was.’

The boy wanted the pink cup…the pink this and the pink that.  Well, it really doesn’t  take a rocket scientist to figure that thing out.  The little k1669660[1]boy had become jealous of his little sister.  I don’t know…maybe the parents stopped doting on him and became pre-occupied with his little sister.  So, he of course wanting his parents attention once again…he might desire to become his little sister…or some how take her place in order to regain their…his parent’s attention and love again.

So, what does his little confused mind decide to do?

He starts wanting what she has… her things… clothing…etc.  He develops a desire to replace her… by becoming her.   Thus, a desire to be a little girl… as in his confused little mind he views it as being the root cause and remedy to his little situation.

It is not at all that he really wants to be a girl.  But he desires his parents’ attention again.   Which if his parents had taken any time with him…it would obvious to them.   That the love he felt that they have taken from him and given to the k1376526[1]little girl…his sister…he wanted it back.

Then there is this other side of the coin.  If the little boy doesn’t like boy stuff…toys, sports etc..

So, what if  he doesn’t grow up playing baseball…or basketball…or watching sports.  It doesn’t mean you have to put your stamp all over him…and say-

“I know what…we’ll call him girl.”

And  dress him up like one.

Yes…I do know that some gay guys…and even some women… claim that they knew they were gay from the craddle.  But closer examination on the matter…might bring them to some other opinion if they really sat down and looked back at things in their history that they may have forgotten.

It is a mind game.  Some kids grow up thinking that they are the biggest and the baddest.  Some that they are stupid and don’t know anything.  Some believing that they are beautiful…some that they are smart.  It can vary depending upon who they are…what their social-economic backgrounds… neighborhoods… family… schools… churches…etc.. and what is going on within their home.   But over time it almost always changes…our preception of ourselves…and the world around us…and how we view ourselves in it.

Imagine a little child…4 or 5 years old trying to fight that battle everyday.   Of  having to go to school everyday…and trying to interact with other children…dressed as a little girl when he is a little boy.  It is a ticket to suicide…or drug abuse…and self hate.

Most gay guys can’t even deal with issues from their history…family rejection…etc. when they reach older ages.   They battle those issues most of their lives.    Which is why many of them suffer from alcholism, drug addictions…and indulge so heavily in all types of dangerous sexual practices.

Yes, sadly…I have seen and heard many gay people…mostly men…crying over their broken relationships with their families…endless cycle of  broken love relationships…etc.   Crying over their  lives wreked in pain and sorrow.   Dealing with dying lovers…ex’s …rejections…regrets… etc…etc…  It is hard no matter whether straight or gay to deal with such things.  It’s hard.  But then to have the added burden of  being rejected by your classmates… churches…and society too…makes it all the more worst…and painful…and as a kid?

All across the gay community there are vast levels of self-hate…fear…and self-destruction.  It is sad…very sad.  So, how could any loving or caring parent indulge their child  in any such way as to let them suffer with such thoughts…and conflicts that they…themselves have probably placed upon their child in the first place?   Of which the child may end up battling and trying to fight…and deal with for the rest of their lives.   When all they…the parent or parents of that little boy… had to do was get rid of all that ‘pink and blue’ stuff…and stop setting up stereotypes…and road blocks for their son.   And tried to give him…their  son some quality time.   Rather than to assist him into the further creation of confusion in his little life…by buying him girls clothes etc…and engage him in trying to emulate something which the child is not.  He is not a girl…nor a joke.  Or a plaything…he is a real person…who is on his way to  being badly damaged.

Beu18075991[1]ing a woman encompasses a variety of things.  We do and think differently from the male species.  Our tendencies towards giving, sharing, helping, family, responsibilities, listening, conversing with others, aiding, depth of compassion, commitment, emotions, emotional strenght etc…and so much more are all quite different from men.   It is  far more than one group having a different set of sex organs from the other.  And all the pills and operations…and therapy in the world is not going to change this.

I personally  think that that particular Barbara Walter’s special should have never been aired.  There are some things better not put out there for public consumption.  People start to get simular ideas…and start following suit…copying eveything they see and ear.   We sadly live in a world of people who have  stopped thinking for themselves…and merely seek to duplicate…follow…and do likewise.  And for some people  it is just simplier to assist certain behavior rather than try to work to stem it.

Isn’t that a horrible why to be?

Even worst…to have that kind of parent…or parents.

We would all have been in trouble with those kind of parents…that were that Barbara Walter’s special.  Many parents from time to time feel helpless…but they do not give in to their helplessness.  No, another force kicks in…and they step it up…to the next level.  Parents have to…because all parents are faced with challenges when it comes to their children…at some point or other.  And you just can’t throw up your hands saying-

“I just can’t do anything.”

At that point…some people know that there is one other thing.  They start to pray.  There is power in it.

Finally, no matter what  Chastity’s decision concerning trying to alter her sex…she will always be known as woman…who had a sex change…if she proceeds with the operation and all those pills (which she probably already has done seeing how they have released the story).    But she will never be known as ‘a man’…no matter what she does to herself.  People may pretend…but in the back of their mind will be the fact that she was and will forever be…woman.

Well, in between, Chastity’s decision to change her sex…and that supposed man having another baby (another subject that I said I was not going to touch…as I have already given him rather her too much of my time already)…it has been a very busy week.

In the end Chastity will always be a woman who had the operation.  That is how people will see her…never as a bonafided man.   That only comes by birth.  It is the way people think.  And it is true really… and we should keep it that way.

Besides, if you are truly unhappy with yourself…do you really believe that changing your sex is going to do it?

I say no.

True happiness is something that you have to find within you first.  Putting up pretenses…or  making superficial changes…only brings about more unhappiness… and sadness.

How can you feel happy…when you put up a bunch of pretenses?

I have sat on the trains (the subway) in New York and watched the drag queens.   Unless they were out partying and hanging with friends did I see any gaiety.  Most of  time when I saw them…I saw a lot of saddess…emptiness…and loneliness.

I also talked to some and knew some.  It is how I knew of the inner conflicts.  Which a lot of gay women have too.  I didn’t I did…but I guess I must have.  Because I am so happy that I am out of the life…and have no intentions of ever going back into it.

View Bernadine Smith's profile on FiledByIt is a hard life…and if  the  truth be told.  Life is not  easy for most of us.   And all of  us have found something which we don’t like about ourselves.

But we deal with those things without trying to destory ourselves in the process…or tear ourselves apart.    And that is how I feel about sex change operation.   It is very much like  trying to go against the grain.

One other observation…  Chastity’s girlfriend really looks a bit like her mother.

Well, enjoy your weekend.   And I am still trying to catch up on my sleep.

UPDATE: ON CHAZ (Monday, September 5, 2011)….recently read that she will be on ‘DANCING WITH THE STARS’ this season.  Needless to say there has been an outcry against it.  And I am not really going to say much on it…except this.

Look for her to be voted off the show early.  Controversy brings about higher ratings.  And I have no doubt that some people are going to tune in just to see Chaz’ transformation for themselves.

http://tv.msn.com/tv/article.aspx?news=667737&gt1=28103

Chaz was smart in that she only elected to make some outward changes…and not have other parts of her body touched.  Which makes me think of a conversation that I had recently with a cousin.

That conversation was about gay men who had the operation.  My cousin was trying to tell me that when the so-called ‘bottom’ partner… and not all gay men think as my cousin was trying to tell me.

What she was trying to tell me… as if she really knew anything about which she was talking about… that there was a thing known to gay males as the ‘bottom’ partner and the ‘top’ partner.  That is while they are engaging sexually 1 male is always the 1 on the bottom, while the other sexual partner is the 1 taking him sexually from his position on the top.

While not all of them… gay males operate like that.  And how do I know… because not all gay women operate that way either.  Some do… but not most.

I know this because my cousin Vincent… a gay male… would tell me about some of his partners who would try to force him into taking them sexually… which he never did.  But Vincent was not the norm… and had lost partners because of that.  Anyway… my female cousin who was talking about this was talking like this was the norm for the masses… which is not true.

So, I told her that the real thrill in homosexuality did not come from anything more than knowing that it was ‘a man’ …or ‘a women’ depending upon the preference of the people dealing with each other sexually.   And I told her this in an attempt to explain that once someone went through the operation of having their sexual organs changed… that also changed the whole dynamics of their relationship.

Real homosexuals only want someon of their own sex …be it a man or women.  So, therefore if their lover underwent a sex change… they would cause many to get out of that relationship… because the person who underwent the sex change no longer had that part of them that attracted the other person to them in the first place.

Therefore, if the person’s mind becomes warted enough to want to take their body through some type of outter transformation… most elect to not touch their sexual organs.  Which is what Chaz had also elected not to do.

And even if  Chaz had chosen to do the entire thing …and get the whole thing done in terms of having had the final step done… the re-structuring of her sex organs… she still would be a woman.  No matter what she does.  It is utterly imposible to totally erase God’s stamp upon you …in terms of whom He has declared we shall be… male or female.

It is amazing to me how so many people like to talk about homosexuality as if they are in the know… and do not have any real understanding of it at all.

How in the world could my cousin…my female cousin… who had never really been in ‘the life’ as I had been… tell me anything about a life I was definitely a part of for many years… in regards to what our selections and sexual behaviors are that lifestyle?

I would know… because I lived the life.  And in it we… lesbian women were always tied in things… events and discussions etc. with the gay male population.  We shared spaces together, concerns, emotions, conflicts etc. all being homosexuals.  Which I was at that time… I was in the gay lifestyle.  And that is what Chaz is in… the gay lifestyle.

Having an operation can’t take you out of it… it can’t take you out of  being gay.  But it does indeed intrence you deeper in it.  Because you are making some extreme choices that later you might  just want to be able to step away from… if  or when your mind  …or prespective on this lifestyle changes.

This thing is deep…

God bless…

Thank you for reading this blog…and  my others.  Please be sure to continue to share this blog site with your family, co-workers and all your friends“pass it on…” http://www.bsmith101.wordpress.com ©2009

THE BISHOP’S WIFE  is now on sale…CLICK on the image of my book cover to purchase my book.   Thank you. 




8 comments June 12, 2009

On the taboo subject…

I tried not to look but I couldn’t help myself I had to click to the story…about the supposed man giving birth to a child. 

Now, when I initially wrote on this story a few blogs ago…I knew that there had to be something wrong…because it was just out of sync.

And there was…the supposed man in the story…is really a woman living as a man who…I started to say had a sex change.  But she couldn’t have otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to have the baby or get impregnanted.

I am naive on many things…and I truly am.

But there are somethings which clearly just irritate me.

Why go through all of the trouble of trying to present yourself as a man…and then want to get pregnant?

What was she trying to make a mockery of?

Herself or God?

He can’t be made a mockery of.

And then to have this picture of her…well, supposely him and the baby together.  Well…

Was this just a media thang?

And now they…what? The gay couple exploit the child and their relationship? Selling their story to the tabloids and appearing on talk shows. Anything for a dime or a dollar.

I once knew someone…and I guess I still do…just that I haven’t seen them in a very long time.

When I first met this person I realized something was out of whack…but I could not put my hands on it. 

She lived in the same town as a friend of mines…and I say she because really that is what I met him as…and have only known him as.  Though I do realize to call him…her would be lying…though at the time of course I was not saved…nor trying to be.

Well, she lived in the same Jersey town as my friend…who was new to the area.  And I just thought it would be nice for them to meet and then my friend would have somebody to hang with over in Jersey.

It was my friend who informed of what I just couldn’t put my finger on.

She said to me one night…while we were all out at dinner or something I think…she said after the person had gotten up from the table-

“I know you kept saying that there was something strange…or something about her.  So, I have decided to tell you.  And don’t look over there at her when I tell you this.”

I said, “Okay.  So, what is it?”

And she said…she ain’t a she.

I know I said I wouldn’t look over in her direction…but my head spun around so quickly.  It was an automatic response.  I could not believe it.   I knew I had felt something was out of whack…but I never would have guessed it was that.

My friend immediately admonished me saying-

“I told you don’t look.  Don’t look.”

But I could not help but look.  In fact I was staring.  I had never experienced anything like that before.  It was adverse to me.

I thought that she was a woman and nothing could have prepared me for anything otherwise.

I told you I had been terribly naive…and to some degree still am.

That was at a time when I was heavily involved in gay life…hanging out…partying in clubs with women…and a member of Salsa Soul Sisters, Inc, in New York City.  My life is by no means like that now but there was a time…almost 25 years of my life when that is what I did.  Before that I was not sexually involved at all.

So, I had gone through grade school and college without any type of involvement.  Never dated boys in my life.

I was just different from most people and lived a highly sheltered life under the wings of my parents.

It was in Salsa Soul Sisters that I met this person whom I had introduced to my friend who had just moved to New Jersey from St. Louis.  Salsa was a lesbian organization…and I guess that is why I never would have guessed that this person had been anything other than a woman.

But this is the way it went…she was a guy who wanted to be a woman and then a lesbian.

When the Salsa Soul Sisters found out about this…every founding mother and everybody else stormed into Salsa one night…the record had to be set straight (no pun intented)…and they called an emergency meeting.  Where it was voted on that no biological male could ever become a board member of Salsa.  Because that was really the issue…not only did she want to become a woman and be a lesbian…but she also was nominated to run for a position on the board of directors of Salsa…and that of course was a no-no for any male…real or operated on…which at the time she was not.  And the Salsa Soul Sisters were not having it…not at all. 

You would have loved to have heard those women that night…it got pretty heated…and they were not playing.

In the end I felt sorry for him…because he was nice and had proven to be a good worker.  But my Salsa Soul Sisters were right…and I had to agree with them. 

Salsa was a black lesbian organization…the oldest in the world.  And through their years some very well known women, writers, artist of every type…and professional women and otherwise…etc… have walked through their doors…including Audrey Lorde, June Jordan and many many many others…all Salsa Soul Sisters.  Some very well known and widely read, and seen in media and all facets of the arts, performing and otherwise, as well as educators etc…all Salsa Soul Sisters.  Exceedingly, talented women.

It was hard for me to grasp why she…he would want to dress up as an woman and engage in sexual activity with women as a lesbian.  She was after all a man…by living his life as man…he would not have had any of the confusion that just knowing the story caused me and many of the other Salsa Soul Sisters.

And as much as they tried…tried to not say…many of those same women dated her…before and after that meeting.

There is much confusion in the world…and I am so glad to not have that type of confusion any longer.

I am so glad that God has reclaimed my life…and set me free from the bondage that once held me.

Perhaps as strange as I thought she was…she was not more strange than I was.   One thing is for certain we were both lost.  I don’t know about her or him today…but I have been set free.   And I walk in liberty.

But there is one thing though…I will leave a pocketbook like most people forget an umbrella…because I am not used to carrying one.   So, most of the time I don’t even bother with them…unless it is something like a bookbag…because I will walk off and 2ab-the-bishop-wifecoverleave it.   Smile…and even that too may become a thing of the past.

It is so good to be free.  I cannot thank the Lord enough…for saving me.

Have a good day…    and God bless….

Oh, yeah…another Chinese word.  wu bu dong ….  means I don’t understand… wu is Chinese for ‘I’.

It is pronounced …..woo boo dung.       So, it can be said either way… wu View Bernadine Smith's profile on FiledBybu dong   or    bu dong  …meanding I don’t understand.

It has been raining most of the day and yesterday…but just as I was about to finish telling this story the ceiling started leaking.  I look at it as a sign that the devil just doesn’t want me to tell this story.  But I will tell it everywhere I go if need be…if it can encourage somebody or help someone else to find peace and deliverance in their life.  I’m going to tell it.

I am oh so thankful….for the chance to share it with you.

It is funny…but the moment I wrote that last paragraph the ceiling stopped leaking.  It is the power of God…to speak what he puts upon your heart to speak.  I know that this blog is going to touch someone in a special kind of way…and I am so happy to be able to speak life and truth into your life.  Be bless… ©2008

Add a comment July 24, 2008

Looking for someone just like my dad…

Felt like I wanted a donut…

Why can’t I have a donut if I want one?

It is not like I wanted 4 or maybe 6 of them…or even like I splurge heavily on food or go on things like ice cream binges.  Because I don’t.  I only eat ice cream occasionally.  And that is about as often as I eat a donut.  But sometimes you just want one.

So, every now a then…sometimes I just feel like I want a donut.  Sometimes it could be a piece or chocolate cake…and real good chocolate cakes are hard to find nowadays.  But sometimes I feel like I want one of those old time good tasting pieces of chocolate cake.  Now, that I might have to have a couple of pieces  if  I could find it.

I don’t know…I guess from time to time we all get a taste for something…andwhen we do…  Well,  we just want it.

Well, this evening about 9:30 p.m. my urge was for a donut.

So, I jumped into the car and headed for the local Dunkin Donuts.  But the one near the house was closed…just goes to prove I don’t get a donut urge often…otherwise I would have known that. 

So, since I really wanted this donut and the place nearest to the house was closed…and I was already in the car…and even though gas is $4.16 per gallon…I decided to go for it…and get my donut anyways.

I drove right pass the second donut place believing that it too was going to be close.  And even though I had my glasses on…I totally missed the big bright  and very lit up sign reading “Dunkin Donuts.”

So, I had to make a u-turn.  And as I drove home smacking on my donuts :).    I started thinking  wouldn’t it have been nice to be able to say-

“Baby, I want a donut.”

And someone would get up and go get in the car and get me a donut.

And that is when I started thinking of my mother and father.

At any part of  the day when my mother would come in, shower and lay down on the bed…if  she desired something she rarely called any of us…her 8 children.  Instead she could be heard calling for my father.

She would call him softly…never in a barking or rough tone…and she never called daddy by his real name…instead she called him, Douglas.

Whatever daddy was doing he would stop and go to mommie and see what it was that she wanted.

And sometimes mommie would just say-

“Douglas, bring me a glass of  water.”

Daddy never complained…and always went to do or get whatever my mother would ask him for.

He was a businessman who had a very prosperous barber business that had serviced many generations of men in our town.  His business did so well that we were literally the richest people in our church, probably on our street and perhaps in many of the circles in which we travelled even as teens and young adults.

They were very good together…my parents. 

Daddy was 15 years older than mommie but you would have never had guessed it.

I have never met anybody who had all the capabilities of daddy.  He could have been a tailor if  he had wanted to…or a chef, or a mechanic, or an architech.  Daddy could do everything.  And he could do them all well…even better than well.  He was superbly proficient in everything that he could do…and there was nothing that daddy could not do.

Sundays and Mondays were daddy’s days to cook.  Though my mother would help out on Sundays doing things like baking (cakes, pies, fresh rolls etc.) and making macaroni & cheese, and cooking the greens…things like that.  But daddy prepared all the meats which would entail him cutting up many onions, scallions and all kinds of spices. 

He always seasoned his meats hours before cooking…and if  it was curry goat he would season it the night before.  Daddy would take his hands and mesh the seasoning into the meat.  He would pour in hot water and allow the seasoning along with the curry and the onions to steam into the meat before placing it into the refrigerator to sit overnight.  That is how he always cooked the curry goat.

He also prepared the rice, whether it was rice and beans, or regular rice, mashed potatoes etc.

Both mommie and daddy were fantastic cooks…and they could do everything from scratch.  And didn’t have to refer to one cookbook.

Dinner was always a feast at our house no matter what day it was…but on Sundays even more so…we would 2 or 3 meats to chose from.  And there were always guest whom my mother would bring home from church to share our Sunday dinners with us.

It wasn’t until I lived in Chicago…and was a thousands miles away from home that I came to realize just how special it was to be able to open up your home to other people.  When I was in Chicago, I was away from family and all my friends…and there were many times when I was in need.  This, of course, I never shared with my parents.  No, I couldn’t do that.

I went to Chicago to become this big-time radio personality.  As bad as things sometimes got for me, I managed to even send some money ocassionally…though at one point I was virtually homeless in Chicago. 

Sending money home to my parents was something I had seen my parents do throughout our years of growing up…so, when I became of age it was what I wanted to do too.  So, I sent…I never thought about whether or not my parents needed it.  Because clearly my parents had more than enough…as our family was exceedingly blessed.

But while in Chicago there were some holidays that came around…Christmas and Thanksgiving.  And when you are alone and away from your family for the first time in your life it can be very sad and lonely those 2 holidays.

While in Chicago, I never got a job on a radio station…but I had talked to Tom Joyner, Barry Mayo, BB Banna and several others on a regular basis trying to get in.   But I ended up working at a church instead as a church secretary.  I was in need and after a long period of  looking I finally landed this job.  At first I felt myself above it.  “Me”….a secretary….”me…”

Big time me…a church secreatary? 

No.

But my no soon turned to a yes when I met my would be boss during an interview…which I nearly refeused to go to because “it was just too beneath me.”   Thank God, I did not.

Of all the jobs I have ever had that job has meant the most to me,  and I know today that it was right where God intended for me to be.  For the lessons that it taught me and the greatest example of  mentoring and leadership anyone could have possibly have gotten…I got there.

The church was 6th Grace United Presbyterian Church, 35th and Cottage Grove, on Chicago’s South Side…right down the street from the White Sox stadium.  The Pastor was the late Dr. A. L. Reynolds, Jr…who from the moment I met him, I began to marvel at him.  I have never met anybody like Dr. A. L. Reynolds, Jr…not even to this day.  And at the moment I met him I knew he was special…but I had never realized that I had stepped into the presence of greatness until years later.  What a man.

Why am I telling you this story…I have no idea.  I will have to go back and read some of  what I just wrote to see where I’m suppose to be going with  this….give me a minute….

I sometimes get lost.

Oh, yes…oh, yes….

While at home with our parents, I used to wonder why we couldn’t spend our Sundays and holidays with just us…just our family.   Why did we always have to have people over our house, eating our food and taking up our time?

I was selfish…terribly so.

It wasn’t until I was a thousand miles away from home that I came to realize just what a blessing my parents…my mother and father were to other people. 

My parents didn’t invite people into our home who had a lot of things, or who were rich or popular…they invited people who didn’t have family, some were even in nursing homes…whom we would go and pick up to bring to church then take them to our house for dinner and back to church, and  then later back to their nursing home at the end of the day. 

They, my parents…they brought sunshine into people’s lifes and they never asked for anything in return.  They enjoyed doing it.

In Chicago, I spent 2 holidays in the home of the Rippleton’s.  Mr. and Mrs. Rippleton were the parents of the late singer Minnie Rippleton…and they had been members of 6th Grace.  They were extremely nice people and full of alot of fun.  Mr. Rippleton was a real comedian.  Mrs. Rippleton sometimes talked to me about Minnie and the cancer, and how difficult it had been for Minnie…and their family watching her go through that.

My very first day on that job…I got a call early in the morning from someone asking to speak to Dr. Reynolds.

The woman said, “Hello, this is Minnie Rippleton.  Is Dr. Reynolds in?”

I almost dropped the phone…that 6 octive voice, Grammy Winner…Minnie Rippleton was on the other line talking to me.  And here I had come to Chicago to get into radio…and couldn’t get in.   And here was Minnie Rippleton on the other end of my office line…the very first call on my first day on the job.

CLICK to LISTEN Loving You – Minnie Ripperton They don’t make music like this anymore…nor like her family, the Rippertons, whom I shall always love and have the greatest and  highest regard for… for their love and hospitality to me… as well as the whole 6th Grace family.

Minnie died that evening but she had called and conversed with Dr. Reynolds, her spiritual advisor and Pastor.  She had called in the first thing that Monday morning.

It was also at 6th Grace that I met Harold Washington…but that is another story for another time. 

And perhaps I will get around to telling about when I met James Baldwin…what a day that was.  I never met anyone like him…he was quite gracious.  But that too is another story that perhaps I will get around to sharing with you at some other time.

Let me go back to telling you about my father.

Daddy could make the best ice tea, Kool-aide and lemonade.  He also made homemade ice cream,  in  a variety of  tropical favors, which we all gladly churned on Sundays.

Daddy was so good at everything including his business that in the morning men would be outside our door waiting on him to give him a ride to work…so that they could be the first one in his barber chair.

Daddy caught the bus to work usually.  His barber shop was in the downtown area of our town.  He always got up on time and would arrive at his shop every morning that it was due to open, Monday-Saturday, at 7:30 a.m. where a few of  his customers were sure to be there waiting on him.  And because he was so popular…this was, of course, the reason why some of them would come to the house to give him a ride. 

Daddy loved it.   He loved his customers…and always respected their time.

The one thing daddy never did…he didn’t eat sandwiches. 

Mommie always prepared daddy a hot lunch which she would drive down to him some time during noon.  But most of the time daddy would bring the food home mostly untouched because he would never get a chance to eat it.  He was always busy taking care of customers right up until the time he closed his shop for the night.

And when he came home mommie always had him something good to eat…and it was always fresh and hot.  He didn’t eat what we ate.  Where mommie might make us spaghetti some nights, or homemade chicken pot pie, or meatloaf on others etc…which of course all kids love…but daddy would get stuff like smoothered steak with green peppers and onions over mashed potatos, and some sort of vegetable. 

Another thing about daddy…he was a saver.  He was also one of those people who as soon as a bill came in he would pay it.  He never waited on due dates to pay anything.  He managed money very well…and had the bank accounts to prove it.   And though he only had a 7th grade education which render his reading skills weak…he could sure count money.  He stayed on top of  his money and his bills. 

Though my mother worked as well…her money was her money.  Daddy provided for our family.  He paid for all  our  household expenditures, mortgages, grocery bills etc.  And anything to do with us…he paid for it.

Daddy was clearly the husband that the Bible calls men to be…a provider.   And our household wanted for nothing. 

As children we spend our Christmas’ in Florida…and by the time we would return home over the holiday it was as if  Toys R Us had made a special trip just to our house. 

As we grew up we started spending our summers in Florida instead.

My parents spared nothing.

And as we  became of age they bought us all cars.

When they wanted a new car…they bought it.  And they bought nothing that we all could not fit in. 

When we went on trips…we all went. 

When they decided to go to Jamaica…it was a family affair…which was the way my parents treated everything. 

My mother loved to shop and that is what she did with her money.  But she not only loved shopping for herself…but for us as well…as well as for daddy.   At eighteen she was still buying all of my clothes.  And everything she bought was top shelf.

And that is how daddy bought too.  He did not buy cheap…and he tailored all his own clothes.  He had the measuring tape, the pins and the white chalk to make the marks…the whole works.   Daddy took  everything  serious.  He was  very  percise and took such care in whatever he did.  And he could sew by hand…as well as anyone could with a sewing machine.

In the basement he had all his tools; saws, drills, snakes for the plumbing system (which comes in handy when you have kids), levers…everything.  Because daddy could build and make things, and was always working around the house. 

Including gardening…daddy did that too…as well as service our cars and bicycles.

Mommie loved daddy’s tomatoes, green peppers and cabbage, strings beans, greens  etc… 

Yes, along with everything else daddy also had a green thumb too.

I don’t know who taught daddy…but they taught him well.

Though daddy might not have been able to read well…that, however, never stopped him from picking up a book and trying to sound his way through a few words…or from starting his business.  And when I think on it…the thought of me helping him to learn to read never even came into my mind.  I do not know why.

Mommie had been the first black nurse in the little town she grew up in down in a small town in Florida.  When she retired she had been a nurse supervisor at a state institution. 

Their schedules rotated around their children.  We were their pride and joy. 

They treated us to everything…everything good.  They were not drinkers, smokers, cursers or things like that…nor did they allow cards or card playing in their house.  Though we could play Ol’ Maid, checkers and stuff like that.  And I do not know  how  Daddy could do it…but  he was a master even at checkers. 

Who could beat him?

Before you knew it he had the board loaded with  kings…and just blowing you away with his moves taking everything you had on the board.  What a mind.

We were never allowed into people’s houses, nor could any of our friends come into our house.  As my parents said that they had had 8…and that 8 was enough.

We were not allowed to stay over people’s houses.  And they did not believe in paying us any allowances for helping out around the house.  Which sometimes included getting on our knees and scrubbing the floors, or wiping down all (and I do all) the woodwork  in the house etc…etc…   Oh, how I hated those Saturday mornings when we would be  waken up to find buckets in the kitchen with rags in them…waiting on us.

From our parent’s house have sprang graduates from Moorehouse, Florida A & M, Princeton, University of Alabama, University of  Kentucky, Brandeis University, etc…etc…and they are still coming.  We’ve got a few more who will graduating in a couple of years and some whom we have began to set up for Spellman and Harvard…you’ve got to plant these seeds early.

My parents were believers in education.  My mother was always taking classes.  I can’t tell  you  how many times she took typing… she kept flunking it.  But she kept on taking it anyways.  She also took bookkeeping and a few other classes…including voice lessons.

Mommie definitely could not sing…but that didn’t stop her. I have to admit that the voice lessons did do a little good though.

Whenever mommie would go to school for a conference regarding me…she would come home with the report to my father.  Whenever I tried to explain to my father about the teacher and how she didn’t like me…my father would always stop me short…and never hear whatever it was I was trying to tell him. 

He would glare at me saying-

“The teacher got her’s you’ve got to get yours.”

I hated hearing those words…but today I understand them well.  And daddy was right.  I’ve even come to recite them a few times myself. 

Daddy was full of witticisms also.  He was some kind of  special…and I don’t know how he and mommie met. But one thing for sure they sure loved each other.

Yes, daddy was very special and if ever I were looking for someone…I doubt that I would ever ever find anyone quite like daddy. 

Well, if  you feel like a donut…I hope you have someone who can go get you one.  Or go with you…or take you to get one.

I hope I didn’t rample on and on…and that you got some sense out of this blog.

Enjoy your day…and I’m working on my rib business.  I have spent so much money that I have actually run out of money.  I have the whole set-up  but I don’t have the money to buy the goods.  So, maybe we will up and running by next weekend…this weekend looks a bit bleek.   But it is all part of the process.  Sometimes you have just got to learn how to go with the flow. 

You know I really learned that from my friend in New York whom we are expecting to pass.

In her words…”Whatever God allows.”      ….God bless…  ©2008

Add a comment July 16, 2008

Upside/Down…wrong is…Same Sex

This post is inspired by a sermon by Bishop Charles Ellis, III, of Detroit, MI, entitled “I’m Still Standing in an Upside Down World.” 

There is something about my blog on ‘Gay Pride’ which plagues me somewhat.

I in no ways intended to say or make it appear that I agree with gay (same-sex) marriages.  Oh, no…  In no way could I do that.  For those things which are wrong are wrong…and gay marriages are wrong.  And certainly go against the will of God.

However, what I was trying to say was…that I thought it was interesting that many gay people want to get married whereas many heterosexuals (for whom marriage was intended) do not.

I think that we have to be very careful in making statements that make wrong seem right…and to some degree that blog may have seemed that way to some.  But it was not intended that way.

The Bible says “With love and kindness have I drawn thee.” 

So, therefore I cast no judgement upon anyone. 

Yes, I have opinions but my opinions are not meant to comdemn.

I don’t like gay jokes…particularly from the culpit.  Because there is nothing funny about sin.  So, therefore no sin should become a joke.

Nor do I like speaking about being homosexual or heterosexual…as to speak in terms of sex is to be caught up in fleshy things…because sex has to do with the flesh.  And it is something which we all have to battle against.  

Speaking of which, you will have to read my book when it comes out, “The Bishop’s Wife”….a sho’nuf must read.  I will tell you when you can get it…as it is already at the publishers…you can read about that in my very first first blog…under ‘self-publishing.’  Well, so much for my shameless plug for my up-coming book…“The Bishop’s Wife.”

I hope I have addressed the issue of same-sex marriages, pre-martial sex (all of which you can read in my ‘Gay Pride’ blog)… along with my stance on them and other things all through my blogs…of which, if you haven’t read them all…do indeed give them a read.  And don’t forget to share this blog address www.bsmith101.wordpress.com  with your family and friends…and co-workers…everybody!    Enjoy…and thank you for reading. 

Be kind to those around you.  With love…champion your enemies.

I will never forget once being in downtown Brooklyn when I came across a young employee whom I had had a lot of problems with…but when she saw me downtown that day (which had been the first time she had seen me for some time)…when she saw me…she came running towards and threw her arms around me burying her head in my chest with such joy.

And I said to her as we conversed, “Patrina, I thought that you didn’t like me.”

And she answered saying, “Yes, Miss Smith.  But you were fair.”

So, I say champion your enemies and they will run towards you…with open arms.

Be good and have a beautiful day.     God bless….

ps….I have been doing nothing but sleeping.  I’m still trying to catch up to all the sleep I lost while being on vacation last week.  ©2008

Add a comment July 14, 2008

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