Archives for December 2020

My brother, Tory, is fighting for his life due to COVID-19.

As I write, he is in ICU on a ventilator. I love the Lord and traffic in knowing all things are possible and God is a miracle. Below is my prayer for Tory. Yet as I activate my faith, I think about the 300k+ families who will not share the holidays with a beloved family member–even remotely–this holiday season. I had been praying for the fallen. Now I pray for the families who have to go through this–including my own.

I pray for peace as we each confront the helplessness of not being able to visit a loved one when their lives hang in the balance.

I find myself wanting to blame SOMEBODY for this. I know it’s petty of me and I know life is divinely ordered and yet I feel angry that this is happening to us.

I anxiously wait for the phone to ring afraid of what my sister will say.

And I cry.

Tory is a father.
A son.
A husband.
An uncle.
A nephew.
An entrepreneur.
A provider.

A brother.

The only brother I have.

So this holiday season, I pray for healing–miraculous, wonder-working, supernatural healing for all the families impacted by COVID-19. Whether you lost someone to it or are nursing someone who has it or if you are fervently praying for someone you love to be healed from it, please know you’re not alone. I trust God’s will AND I believe in miracles. All I want for Christmas is healing us all from COVID–the victims as well as those of us who love them.

I know this is not a happy go lucky happy holiday wish. But it’s the best I have right now. Here is my prayer for Tory. Please pray for my family and I will pray for yours too.

I love you.
Dr. Venus

Dear God,

I love you and I trust you. I do not doubt your hand on my life nor your grace and mercy. I have trained myself to not asking for things when I pray.

But I don’t know what else to do right now.

Tory’s in ICU due to COVID. Because it’s COVID, no one, not even his wife, can be with him while he fights for his life. I know I have no right to ask you for anything Lord, but please, if it be in your will, could you please stop by Tory’s hospital bed and let him know he’s loved? That he is not alone in this?

I don’t know if he is conscious or not.

What I do know is you are a miracle worker and you can do anything but fail. Please Lord, spare Tory. It’s a selfish prayer. He’s the only brother I have. It’s the holiday season which is hard on all of us for various reasons. But I know in my blood and bones that miracles happen when you move. Please Lord, I beseech thee for a miracle.

The miracle of Tory’s complete restoration is a gift to me and my family akin to Lazarus’s miracle.

I trust your will God.
And you said to ask.
To seek.
To knock.
I’m asking.
I’m seeking.
I’m knocking.

I’m praying.
I’m trusting.
I’m believing.

I know everything is in divine order.

You have never left or forsaken me.
I know you will not start now.
Your ways are not my ways.
So I praise you in advance for your wonder working power.

Thank you for hearing me out and for coming through.

Let your will be done in this and all things.

In Jesus’ name,
Venus

Jill Scott DM’d me and is now following me on social media.

God is so faithful.

I can feel Spirit realigning the cosmos to fulfill my destiny. Here’s the truth: when I read her message I wasn’t star-struck. I felt like an old friend was acknowledging me.
Honest.
Normal.

As I transition from internet marketer to entertainment mogul, I’m moved to tears by how God loves me and turns my wants into needs so I allow my destiny to manifest.

It felt like a miracle; like a sign from God that everything is coming together. Not by force but by faith.

And it keeps on getting better.

My TV pilot script is blooming beautifully. Graciously. My script teacher is the truth. I am so thankful for her razor-sharp mind and gentle heart. She’s great with my literal understanding of the world and never makes me feel stupid.

I get nervous sometimes.

Especially when I’m learning something completely new. I tend to do it “right” and sometimes miss the forest for the trees.

Thank God for grace in mercy.

I’m learning how-to tell stories as moving pictures. It’s humbling and exquisitely rewarding at the same time. I realize I am REALLY learning this new art form. I feel grateful.

If that weren’t enough, my team and I met with the production company that is pitching the unscripted TV project I’m attached to in January. It looks promising and it feels right. I feel like God is aligning everything in the perfect order for me.

On the home front, I’m also taking private clients now–and get this: I feel energized instead of drained by the notion. #yay

I’m running Category of One 8-Week Intensive: Don’t be the best. Be the only. We will start on 12/29/20. I’m having between 3-6 clients in an intimate group.
I have space for two more clients in this COO Intensive. If your up to throwing your hat in the ring for one of these last spot, here is the Masterclass & Application.

On a holiday note, Happy is as adorable and assertive as ever.   He HATES wearing his sweater but he looks precious in it. And he is demanding I be fully present with him after daycare. He had trained me well.  He’s doing great. All is right in my world.

My prayer for you this Holy-day season is you open your heart to receive the ease, fulfillment and affluence of God. I know I have. And it works! I never imagined the level of victory, DURING THE PANDEMIC, God would manifest in my life. I’m clear now about the wonder-working power of trusting God not just for my needs but also with my dreams.

Thanks for witnessing and happy Holiday Season.

I love you.

My body is tired.
My brain is physically fatigued.
But I feel alive.

I am writing.

Only four syllables.
Those four syllables comprise three words into one sentence.

”I am writing.”

The most powerful declarative that can ever be utter as a speech act is “I am.”

In the beginning was the Word.
God said.
There was.

One cannot separate
a sun beam from the Sun.

I cannot separate me from my God.
I create like God created.
The Word made flesh, bone & blood
makes me make sense.

I know the power of Word.
And I know how to wield it.

Words.

Dripping off my page
like a sensually sweet cream
liqueur from South Africa.

They keep tumbling, meandering,
then racing through my mind like a
German train that can take you
around the world in a day.
Never stopping for gas.

I cant stop writing.

I sit. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.
Until my legs go numb.
I stare at the screen until
my tired eyes see double.
I type until my fingers and
back curve in to gnarly shaped Cs
that can’t be straightened.

And yet…

… when I peel myself away from the subduction of the screen
to walk my pup,
or shovel food as fuel in my face
or relive my grid-locked bladder…

I realize I am living my dreams.

And while I’m tired,
achy and swollen,
I’m fulfilled.

I am a writer.
Speaker.
Teacher.
Thinker.

I know how to do things with words.

I am becoming what God intended when he spoke the world into existence.

So I will sit and write and rewrite and learn how to write and write tired and write achy and write, type, think, speak and pray regardless of how I feel.

My feelings don’t matter. Not with this. Not now. Not ever again. My feelings physical comfort will not sabotage my destiny.

As long as I make God proud
it–ALL of it–is worth it.

President-Elect Biden has said he will ask everyone to wear a mask for his first 100 days in office. You would think he said people would have to sacrifice their first born at high noon. What does wearing or not wearing a mask say about an person?

If you don’t wear a mask does that mean you don’t care about others; if you do wear a mask, you do?

I’ve been fascinated, angry, scared, outrage and just good ole fashion pissed by the rising numbers of COVID-19 cases and deaths in America. Currently, we have 14 million cases and 274k+ deaths. When I look at these numbers, my mind practically breaks when I see a person, mask-less because the alleged virus is a ”hoax.”

America, as an identity, is rugged Individualism. Think John Wanye or the Marbro Man. The phrase, ”I’m not a sheep” or ”I live in a free country” or even ”You can’t tell me what to do” sounds like a petulant child rebelling against his mom by refusing to eat the spinach on his plate. I don’t understand how wearing a mask makes one a sheep, a follower, not manly.

I keep thinking about the 56% of White Women and the 18% of Black Men who voted for the outgoing President. I wonder if, for these two groups who identify with his brand of Individualism: the ” I’m free so I can say and do whatever I want because I am strong and can handle anything,” refuse to wear masks to show their loyalty? Does it make you strong to not wear a mask? Are you testing God? Do you not care about your own life?

I think the reason people who don’t wear masks is the same reason people who do wear masks do. It’s the same reason why we vote for who we individually vote for. The reason: our wearing or not wearing of a mask during the worse pandemic in history–cases and deaths be damned–is because our choice reflects back to us who we want to be.

I don’t want to see myself as weak, so I won’t wear a mask. I want to see myself as a person who cares about others and life itself, so I wear a mask. My point is this: mask-wearing or not is self-referential. It’s a looking back on one’s self to know one’s self. It’s a completely internal marker to reiterate to the self that one is self-defined.

To wear or not to wear a mask?

The cases and death numbers have NO bearing on the choice. If it did, we wouldn’t have the numbers we have–and climbing. The more you try to get a person to wear one or to not, the person’s sense of self to him or her self is threatened. So to reiterate personal power, people dig their heels in.

And more people die.

I noticed that Biden said he would ”ask” the American people to wear a mask for his first 100 days in office. It is a brilliant strategy. By ”asking” instead of demanding he just lowered the threat. You can’t defy an ask. You have to consider it. Once you can consider it, the threat has passed and NOW we can speak to the benefits if one chooses to wear one–or not.

It seems a simple thing: to ask.

Yet it may be the single most powerful strategy a president, a parent, even a Police Officer can implement in order to influence an action or outcome. We do it all the time in sales and marketing. You can’t make anyone buy anything. You really can’t unless you want to process a bunch of refunds.

But you can influence the purchase.

When you ask instead of demand, people feel respected.

They feel in control.

They feel like their voice matters.

So I’m taking on asking. Who knows. Perhaps by asking the people, I love to wear a mask–or not, we can then have a conversation about it instead of going to war.