Conferences & Webinairs, Grief & Loss

Seasons of Grief Re-Cap-Thanks Fayetteville, Georgia!


What an awesome night of remembrance, healing, and shared stories of loved ones that has passed recently. It was an honor to be in the presence of family members who were taking the necessary time out to permit themselves to grieve and understand the stages and tasks associated with the grieving process. The grief process is unique and just because we love God, we MUST take the time to go through the process of grief.

Last night, I taught on the Price of Unresolved Grief and why we need to acknowledge grief. People are still walking around attached to pain that happened to them years ago and are unsure how to go about releasing the pain; wondering what their quality of life will be without it; the pain that is. Many of the people there were newly grieved and I was honored to share in their process.


There were people there last night that were facing:

  • The 2 month loss of their wife following 64 years
  • The 2-year loss of their husband following 65 years of certainty of who they were in the marriage and not as a single person
  • The 2-month loss of a daughter

We took the time to do a Seasons of Grief Exercise to remember the loved ones. Thanks toImage

,we took the concept of the Memory Jar with Stones and adapted it to the season and used green and red sticks to allow the participants to write the names of their loved ones one them. Walking through the crowd, we took the time to allow moments for them to share stories of their loved ones and how they are coping. The stories of unconditional love and devotion were amazing.

Despite the layers of loss, the atmosphere of peace was thick and it was apparent that the people in attendance felt the need to share and begin the process of healing.

Thank you to all who came out!

We look forward to being with everyone again in Fayetteville, GA on Thursday, December 5 at 7:00pm for Part II of the Grief Seminar: The Art of Grief. Come and bring a friend. We’re gonna laugh, cry, and paint our expression on paper.

Interested in hosting Seasons of Grief in your City? Send inquiries to 

Individual Grief Recovery Programs and Sessions will begin January 2014! Stay tuned.


Quickies, Rough Necks, and the Orphan Heart of a Woman


IF YOU’VE EVER BEEN ABUSED (sexually, verbally, or mentally) you’ll remember when pulling hair, talking loud,calling you out of your name all meant a brother loved you. Professing rough necks over preppy dudes, bored and wanting more. When you met the love of your life and he softly caressed your hair, you asked him what was wrong BECAUSE LOVE DON’T FEEL LIKE THAT…IT SUPPOSED TO HURT. On your wedding night you wondered why a brother took his time in the art of lovemaking rather than a drive-by quickie? You even asked him, what was wrong BECAUSE LOVE DON’T FEEL LIKE THAT…IT SUPPOSED TO BE QUICK. Now the love of your life confused wondering why he’s not enough for you. Okay…seriously disturbed.

I overheard this song in the gym yesterday, bobbing to it (I’m a music lover) until the lyrics got me choked like a chicken bone in my neck. WHA–WHAT? An artist wrote a song about a vulnerable sister vomiting a lyrical love manifesto saying “I’ll just go ahead and give you my treasure, it’s just sex, making love is for whimps, I don’t love myself, so I can’t be good to you, let’s just f (bleep), forget the what-ifs (pregnancy, STD’s and AIDS), no emotions attached. WHA-What? Strong set up for sexual addictions. The most vivid example of schizophrenia I’ve ever met. Wake up & rebel against tossing your purity, & distinguish between reality and fantasy.Let God restore you. You were made for more. My heart grieves for the woman on this picture because although cartoonish, she does exist and she is out there thinking that this collection of abuse that she experiencing is her forever reality. Like the woman who was at the well, she is an awesome candidate to experience the love of Father God and be set free from the chains that bound her. #orphannomore



Walking on Water When Nikes Just Won’t Do It!


When was the first time you discovered what you would love to do for life? If you were given the opportunity to start tomorrow, what would you do? I remember the first time I came into an understanding of what I wanted to be. It was an autumn or maybe fall day — I was about seven years old and my daddy, who was a minister, asked me to look up some words for him. He would always write his sermons at home, after a day at our family shoe shop called, Solomon’s Shoe Shop on Bright Street in Kinston, North Carolina 28501 (shout-out)—Richard Green where Grandma Sudie lived with Pam-Pam. After identifying what each word meant, I would tell him. Thus my fascination with INFORMATION grew…

Every other day, I found myself around this same age, loving to look through my dad’s office catalog, where he would order supplies for his home office- which was the desk where he ran the family affairs. Never being asked, I would always re-arrange and arrange his desk, sort the mail into stacks, put the paper clips in order, etc. I learned the art of customer service on my daddy’s desk, having learned to take messages on the message book and put the white copy on the desk for my daddy; leaving the yellow copy in the book. From what seems like birth, my mom was a strong domestic organizer- cooking, cleaner, gardener, decorator, seamstress, and stable force in our home. She was quiet yet her few words gave way to the bold actions to get things done! She was a mover and a shaker and taught me how to love the home I lived in. I know now yall got Martha Stewart and she has become stable, but I promise somebody somewhere, is a student of Talmer Joyce Gray Solomon’s School of Domestication besides myself! Momma did not play—- she had me washing dishes and doing laundry at a young age; which has aided as a virtuous compliment to me as a wife and mother! Thanks Momma! Thus my interest in improving DOMESTICATION THROUGH ORGANIZATION…..

Growing up in a family where my father endured 55 transplants and 3 kidney operations, I also dealt with many nurses and doctors in my life who were able to assess the issues he was experiencing and diagnose a treatment via medication, physical therapy, or the like. From the age of seven, I could name all of the nine medications that my father was taking, such that, when he blacked out at the wheel on the highway, due to a diabetic coma, we ran off the road and into a ditch—- Our car was pinned in an embankment on my side, so I climbed out of the window crawling over my dad and flagged down an 18-wheeler truck, who CB’d the hospital. When the ambulance came, I was able to tell them what was wrong with my daddy. In addition, I also gave them the number to my mom’s job so she could be reached. Thus my appreciation for COMMUNICATION …..

My journey as a Professional Organizer began then. Not following the grain. I set out to understand why I had a passion for organizing and informing people. I originally thought…could I actually get paid for this? Each time, I was asked what I’d study in college, the answer was always, ” I wanna be an organizer”. I often got a smirked look but each time I thought about it… I could do this line of work without getting paid. You know what, it has worked and my passion has carried me in many directions keeping these three pillars information, organization, and communication as the catalyst in all that I do– social work professor, clinical therapist, community organizer, grant writer, certified nonprofit specialist, social administrator, wife, mother, public information manager, friend.

There are many of us who are and will remain prisoners of hope, because we are fulfilling the dreams of our fathers or mothers or peers out of obligation or what the case may be. There are times in life when we must step out with wisdom in the direction of our passion and pursue that passion with purpose. It may be that we can not identity all of the pieces to the puzzle; and that is alight, the main goal is to start visioning and seeing yourself in your greatness!

Walking on the Water… When Your Nikes Just Won’t Do It… requires time and sacrifice. While you are counting the cost…stay focused!