Thoughts from a former republican

I can’t change my mind back to a thinking that it’s been delivered from.

All my life from the time I was 18, until the past presidential election, I was a registered republican.
And I was a staunch, conservative one.

But sometime during the previous administration, Love changed my mind on many views I held closely, and expanded my vision.

I spent far too many years in a camp of narrow mindedness, but that time was not a total waste.
Because of that time spent, I understand where many folks are, and what they think. And I am able to offer grace where some might only be able to offer condemnation.

I am no longer a registered republican, and that is a result from the system kicking me out, not a lack of participation.
I voted, but I received in the mail a postcard saying that I didn’t, and would have to register again if I want to vote in the future.

I won’t be doing that.

I no longer believe that voting is the only way to make a difference.

I and a few people I know, are making a difference everyday, in our own ways.

The world is changing for the better.
And I’m on the transition team…of Love.


On earth

On the evening of October 1, 2017, my husband and I were in Reno, NV.

We were having an overnight getaway at one of the downtown hotel/casinos.

At this place there is an upstairs walkway connecting 3 different casinos, where there are restaurants and stores.

It’s one of the reasons we enjoy staying there, because we can walk through and be a part of the crowd.  The atmosphere has a great feel to it.

As we were walking through, I saw a man in the crowd and the thought came to me- “What would you do if that man started shooting everyone?”

Instantly, I went from staring at the man to surveying the people around him.

I thought about what my first actions would be, and then I simply said – “God forbid it.”  And then went to blessing the atmosphere with love.

I didn’t have another thought about the incident until I woke the next morning and saw the alarming posts on Facebook about the horror that took place in Las Vegas the night before.

A day or so later, I spoke with my son about what happened.  He works in a rather large hotel/casino in a very small town.

He told me about his own experience a few nights earlier, where something similar happened with him involving a man that was at their casino.

I have no doubts as to why we both had these experiences.  And I see these things happening more frequently.

We are Papa’s representatives on the earth, Carriers of Holy Spirit.

We don’t have to think or overthink about what we should be doing, our spirits in sync with Holy Spirit,  we at least know that we can and probably should respond.

When people say- “Why didn’t God stop this?”  I truly believe the answer is, that God put it in our spirit to partner with them to stop it, and even to go further than that.  To love the ones who would perpetrate such acts.  Allowing Love to change these atmospheres.

I have no idea if anyone at the concert, or even in Las Vegas that evening, the evening of October 1, 2017 felt or saw or heard what I did in Reno, but I suspect they did and simply didn’t know how to respond, or even know if they had the ability to respond.

I don’t condemn anyone for anything about it.

There were a lot of amazing people who did love in the ways they do.  Helping one another.

My focus is on how to stop these things from happening before they happen.

We do have the ability to respond, all of heaven and angels are at our command to not only respond, but to bring heaven to earth.  One moment at a time.

God isn’t letting us in on this stuff before it happens without arming us with the abilities to prevent them from happening.

Some may think I missed something, or that I didn’t prevent what happened in Las Vegas, or that I should have done more, but that’s not true.

I wasn’t there. I was where I was, and I did as the Spirit led me to.

I pray that more and more people become aware of who and whose they are and that in rest; they do what they see their Papa doing.




This past week at the salon, my coworker/friends and I had the pleasure of witnessing a young lady receive her first ever haircut and color.
Because of her religious upbringing, she had been forbidden to do either for her entire life.

She came in wearing a skirt, because that’s another of the religious rules to follow in the church she grew up in.

She was so nervous to be getting done what she was getting done, as she explained she was going through a “rebellious phase.”

And as Stevie, one of our fantastic freedom fighting stylists performed her own magic on the young lady, we simply cheered on the whole process.

But during the time of this young lady’s first steps in her new found freedom, a gentleman (who was anything but gentle) frantically came into the salon, asking us to call the police for him.

He said he was a pastor, and he had just been threatened at the nearby grocery store.

I asked him what his name was, so that I could tell the cops who I was calling for, and he offered his business card with his name and title of “pastor.”

He must have mentioned being a pastor at least 5 times, in an attempt to validate himself.

But to me, everyone is just as valuable as everyone else, and titles have nothing to do with it.

As a matter of fact, trying to show some sort of authority with a title on the name only makes me want to knock that crutch out from a person.

He said he was tired of being “heckled” in this town, because he’s a “pastor.”

And something that came to me while thinking on the whole exchange this morning – The man named John, needs love.

He was more imprisoned than the young lady getting her hair done for the first time.

And he was calling on the law to give him the freedom that only Love can.

I wish I had been more loving with him at the moment he came in, but I wasn’t.

I did the least I could do in the moment, when all he needed was love.

Perhaps an understanding ear, or even a bit of the cheering on that we had given to the young lady.

But next time, because there’s always a next time, I’ll be readier than I was.

Our salon is a safe place for all…those with labels and those without.

We Be love.

We Be Attitudes Hair Studio ❤

I changed my mind

I grew up in poverty.

And from the ages of 5 years to 13 years, I lived in a one bedroom apartment with my mom, in Phoenix Arizona.

The apartment we lived in was less than half the size of my house now, and I didn’t always love it.

As a matter of fact, I often hated it.

Sometimes looking back, I wonder why I was so discontent.

As I said, we lived in poverty, but at the time, I had no idea.

It may sound cliché, but a lot of the time, we ate pinto beans for days in a row.
Sometimes there was meat, and a lot of times there wasn’t.

During this time, my mother would share what we had with anyone who needed it.
And during the times when someone else came to stay with us for extended lengths of time, I was resentful.

For example, my oldest brother came to live with us multiple times, and when he was there, I was expected to share the little we had with him.

I remember waking up and needing to use the bathroom, to find that he was in there and going to be for a long time.
So, my mom would get a coffee can for me to use in the closet as a makeshift toilet, because when a little girl has to go pee she has to go pee…in a literal pot/can.

My mother was versatile that way, and so she taught me how to be.

But I resented it and him.

He could be bossy, militant and mean at times.

He was a Vietnam Veteran, and I was a little kid.

He had seen and experienced things that I would never understand, and I was a little girl.

There were times when the day began and we had a loaf of bread, but by the time I returned from school, he had consumed the entire loaf of bread, leaving none for my mother and me.

And I resented it and him.

It was growing up with not enough and having to share that not enough thrust upon me, which caused me to seek work to earn money at a very young age.

I went on house cleaning jobs with a neighbor who had a cleaning service.
I tried babysitting, but that didn’t fit.
I worked at a fast food place briefly.

I did anything to make a buck, because I had to and I wanted to.
So, growing up without financial support, led me to do whatever I had to support myself.

We moved several times after this period, and ended up in another one bedroom apartment, next door to this brother.

I worked as a receptionist and a hair salon, and I had bought myself, with my own money, a box of hostess cupcakes.

My brother had access to our apartment, and when I returned home from work, the box that only had one cupcake eaten from it, was completely empty.

He had consumed the entire rest of the box, and my reaction was rage.

It was one thing for me to have to share what my mom was willing to share, but it was another thing entirely to have it stolen from me.

I resented it and him.

I was considered to be a brat and a spoiled one at that. But I wasn’t spoiled at all, and no one knew what I was living with growing up, NO ONE.

Those who said the things they did about me and to me, never knew me at all.

But I remember that feeling inside, that I was a horrible person and I didn’t know how not to be that horrible person.

Sometimes that feeling tries to return, but instead of stuffing it down, I kick it out.
I refuse to allow it to do to me what it once did.

So, to some people that looks like I’m not as sorry as they think I should be, or whatever they think. But I consider condemnation to be one of the most destructive things people use against one another, and “there is no condemnation…”

Growing up in poverty wasn’t my choice.

Leaving or staying in poverty was, and I chose differently.

This morning as I was recalling the emotional poverty I also grew up in, I felt the truth rise up in me.

Sometimes that thinking tries to accuse me also.

The same determination that drove me to change the situation I grew up in financially is the same determination that is driving me to change my thinking about the abandonment, rejection and the poverty mindset of not belonging.

It is my job to do this, and Love is leading my way.
And I will do it through rest, not blood, sweat and tears.

Because before and after it’s all said and done…

I Am The Beloved


A couple of days ago at work, there was a lady who brought her two kids in for haircuts.

The mother was under the influence of something, I’m not exactly sure what.

My coworker thought the mom was drunk, I thought maybe she was on methamphetamines.

She talked non-stop, about everything and nothing, and very loudly.

She definitely seemed to be broken.

Her loud, incessant talking would then break into tears. But my heart went out to her.

She would carry on about her own mother, who had passed away 10 years ago.

I could see that she carried a lot of baggage from her relationship with her own mother.

Then the lady started talking about her 6 year old daughter, who was one of the two kids she brought in for haircuts.

She called this daughter a “demon spawn.”
Her 6 year old, precious, wonderful girl!

And I am not a person who leaves lies like that sit in my presence.

So I spoke against those words (to the mother) with words of affirmation of and for this little precious child.

The words come as easily as breathing when we’re talking about children, but I also believe these words are for broken adults who haven’t ever heard them for themselves.

The mother tried to argue with what I was saying about her wonderful girl.

I said that this girl would surprise her mother and the world.

Then it came time that I was getting ready to leave, and the little girl who was finished with her haircut, came up to me and asked if I would sit on the couch with her.

If I hadn’t had other business to attend to, I would have taken this precious one up on her offer, but I had to leave.

As I had stopped at the door, just getting ready to leave, this little girl came up to me to give me a hug!

I won’t tell anyone what to do, or how to do it, only that one is capable of anything, because we are all limitless.

I simply want to encourage people, that even one little word of affirmation in the midst of all the lies pounding in and on us, is coming to overtake this world.

Watch and see…

Seeing someone’s value

So a few days ago I did a lady’s hair who was telling me about her sister who recently moved to town.

The lady I was working on is a good Christian woman. Very involved in her church as a leader of classes and she also plays a musical instrument for worship.

She’s an older lady, I think somewhere near 80 years of age.

As she was telling me about her sister, it morphed into a complaining about her younger sister.

First, it was about her appearance and how she could use my help with her hair, because (I can’t remember the exact phrase she used) she looked like a street person.

Then, it moved onto how her sister started attending church and bible study with the older sister, but that she drinks and smokes, and is probably now gambling.

How she probably has C.O.P.D. due to the cigarette smoking.

And it went on like this for a few minutes.

I told her that Papa really loves her sister a lot. She responded with, “Who?” And I said “Papa God.”

Then the lady said something about how she herself was sounding in all this complaining about her younger sister.

I gestured with my hand and made a big circle and said to her that we were going to turn this conversation around.

I asked if she thought her younger sister was happy. She didn’t see how her sister could be happy in her lifestyle.

Then I asked, “What did your sister do before she moved here?”

And that’s when the complaining got turned into recognition and thanksgiving.

She told me that this younger sister had literally given up her life to care for their elderly mother and their other sister who had cerebral palsy.

This woman, who before had been seen as a pitiful, homeless looking, cigarette smoking drinker, who never attended church or had the proper religious teaching that the older sister had, was now being seen as valuable to the older sister.

The point of sharing this little story is to show that it isn’t about a religious background, or how many seminars, sermons or functions one attends that makes their value seen or known. It’s Love!

This younger sister has always been known by Love and displayed that Love in a life dedicated to serving others. It just didn’t look like the same service as the older sister.

I also told the older sister to bring her younger sister to see me.
I plan on making her hair look as amazing as possible, because I’m gifted in that area.
But I also told the older sister that I believe her younger sister and I are going to be friends.

We are family?

Just a little warning: This may not be nice, but it is real.

I see things that frankly sometimes I wish I didn’t see.

I’m not a blamer or a shamer. It’s not my nature.

My nature is to love and be loved.

I see a love deficit, especially within kingdom circles and it puzzles me.
Not too long ago I saw some pictures of ladies I used to be friends on social media with, from a women’s conference.

In one of the pictures, I saw a line of these women, these prophetic darlings, arms around one another, smiling and posing for the camera.

But in this picture I also noticed one lady at the end of the left side of the line of embracing women, who wasn’t being embraced.

I didn’t know who the lady on the end was, but I knew who the lady next to her was and I wondered, why didn’t you put your arm around this lady on the end?

This has been on my heart ever since I saw the picture.

The other day I went to the conference’s pictures to find it again, just to see if what I had seen had changed in anyway, but the picture was gone.

Instantly I had the feeling that the reason it was gone was that it didn’t show them in a very good light.

And that’s what bothers me the most.

In the past I have attempted connection with some of the women that were in that photo, but they weren’t able to embrace me back. That part is okay, but to pretend is really not okay. I’m not condemning anyone, I’d love to see them set free.

Free from fear, free from religion and free to be real, because real is where it’s at.

The lady that didn’t embrace her neighbor in the picture is supposedly “fearless.” But I don’t think she really feels fearless…I think she pretends to.

I remember once that lady had tagged me in a post that she thought I had shared. It was an innocent mistake, and that can happen when you have thousands of Facebook friends. Not a real personal connection.

But I am meant for personal connection. I know what Christ brings to the circle through me and relationship is important for what He brings.

After I had unfriended this lady, I had been at a baseball game with some other friends. And while there, this lady had sent a voxer message to the friend I was with. In that message she said-“tell Lori hi.”

That seems sweet and nice, but the fact is she had no idea who I was, and the reason she said that was for the benefit of the friend I was with…to make herself look the way she wanted to be perceived, not necessarily for my benefit.

I’m not a negative person. I really can and do see the best in people. A lot of times I see it in people no one else sees it in.

But I also see phony, and it repulses me.

I’m not perfect, I certainly have done my share of acting in my life. But not with my friends and I really wanted to be friends to these women.

They just couldn’t find a way to embrace someone like me who wasn’t like them, and couldn’t pretend to be.