*I didn't cheat. I also posted this at the TeamCakesy.BlogSpot.com site because I felt that this post was an important one. I know that I still have yet to explain the Team Cakesy site so stay tuned*

Folks often ask me what the "lupus symbols" of butterflies and wolves symbolize. When you see a butterfly as it relates to lupus it refers to the lupus mask. I've been a victim of the mask. In October of last year, when I started to flare, meaning my lupus was coming out of remission, I got a spot below the right corner of my right eye. The spot wasn't very large, about the size of a dime. The spot was the color of the inside of your hand. Others didn't notice but I knew it was there because it was my face. Being that I am dark-skinned, I felt it was more noticeable because the spot was so light. Depending on what event I was attending, I would cover the spot with make-up. No worries until the spot began to grow and spread.

During Thanksgiving, my mother came to visit me during in Florida. Out of my peripheral vision, I caught her looking at me. She wasn't eyeing me because her baby girl had done anything special but because she was trying to figure out what was going on with her face. Needless to say that holiday was a very solemn one, haha! I remember one time I was driving and felt her eyes on me. Without facing her, I just said "I'm going to be okay mom". In my spirit, I knew that I was going to eventually be okay eventually but in my mind, I knew that lupus was about to take me on an unforgettable ride.

The butterfly rash grew and grew...and grew. My cheeks and nose were the color of the inside of my hand hence forming the butterfly rash. My cheeks were the butterfly's "wings" and my little nose was the butterfly's "body". Creative, eh? Now the butterfly rash is also sometimes referred to as a malar rash. Pop singer Seal has the malar rash on his face. At one time it was reported the rash was a tribal marking. Lupus rashes and tribal markings are two different things and I am glad that discrepancy has been resolved.

Lupus is sometimes depicted with the picture of a wolf. In Latin, "lupus" is translated as wolf. It has been said that the butterfly rash markings on a lupus patient's face closely resemble markings on a wolf's face. I've also read that "wolf" is used because it "devours" the affected part. That I can attest to but I also know there is a stronger force that is working on my behalf as I continue to deal with the remnants of my lupus mask. It has cleared up tremendously but there are still spots here and there.

Always a believer in documenting my growth and evolution, as the spots spread on my face so did my fascination with taking pictures of the affected areas. One of my friends wrinkled her nose and asked me why I would do such a thing such as take pictures of my diseased face. "To help somebody, dear. To help somebody. I'm far from ashamed."

Little did I know that my hasty camera phone pictures would become a masterpiece when they reached Cherish's heart and hands. My girl is the best. I may have started the Lupus education class but she continues it. It's been a month since it's been posted but still a month later, I still watch it and cry...tears of joy of from where He and your love has brought me http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=md13vn7cCHc Until...

Remember when someone said that what the devil plans for evil, God makes it all good? Well, I know I didn't get the quote exactly right but you know what I mean.

Well as most of you already know I had to move from my beloved adopted homestate of Florida because lupus was being very mean to me. Last month, I went to the local Lupus Alliance to buy a lupus t-shirt. While I was there the director asked me about myself and I told him about my background in journalism and my travels as a flight attendant. He told me the alliance is looking for a Public Relations intern but being that the alliance was a non-profit organization, more than likely the position would be unpaid. I happily told him that I was interested. I agreed to be there one day per week because I still get tired and fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I mean I haven't had any income since December and I have not gotten the green light from my physicians to return to work so why not volunteer? For me, volunteering for a cause that has affected me so adversely was a no-brainer. My only question was when do I start?

So I started about two weeks ago and the director calls me into the principal's office. Dang, I thought, what did I do already? He tells me that he is so impressed with my resume and my work that he wants to pay me. Hold up, wait a minute. You want to pay me?? (Now keep in mind that when I called the alliance in February inquiring about employment, I was told very gingerly "oh honey, this is a non-profit and we very rarely hire.") But don't shout just yet. My boss then says that I can work anywhere from 8 hours per week and up to 20. But the best part?? I can make my own hours! What you say? Needless to say, I was and I am still, stoked.

I am the newest Public Relations Specialist for the Lupus Alliance of America. {Insert me doing the happy dance here.} Did I mention that instead of a cubicle I have my OWN OFFICE? With a door? I can hear Dottie Peoples singing now, "He's an on time God, yes He is..."

Wow. To whom much is given much is required. That might sound odd coming from someone whose health has taken her to hell and back since last March. But I have been given a lot and now it's time to give and I'm so excited to get started.

"Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others, cannot keep it from themselves."~James M. Barrie, creator of Peter Pan

One of my friend’s boyfriends blew her brains out last weekend as her three daughters watched in horror.

Today was the viewing at a local funeral home. I got sad as I walked past throngs of people that were my age. I grew sadder as I saw a young lady in a corner dabbing her red eyes with a Kleenex. I grew sadder still as I hugged and softly kissed my friend’s sister and brother. I was the saddest when I sat on that front row and stared at that closed casket. Wow.

What makes someone think that they have the authority to take another person’s life? But not only take their life but do so in front of the children.

I just sat, quietly, and just tried to take everything in. When I was tired of sitting, I got up and read the small square cards in the beautiful flowers. When I read all the eight cards, I sat back down again. Once more, I got tired of sitting, so I repeated the song and dance of looking at flowers and reading cards all over again. I was avoiding something as I knew that I would.

So I confronted the casket by sitting straight up in front of it. My friend was the same age as I am, having only turned 30 a month before me. Her mom was like my mom. Both sent their children to parochial schools making sure that every day there would prayer in our classrooms. Both mothers were very active in their child’s lives and supported everything that we did and wanted to do. But here I sit looking at a casket containing my friend whose brains were splattered against a wall in front of her kids. Then I began to think about me and my health trials over the past year and a half. Oh what her mother would do to have a lupus riddled daughter here with her! Oh how blessed I am. Oh how blessed you are.

Do we really, really understand when someone says that tomorrow isn’t promised? Do we really take that to heart? We let silly things ruin our disposition. We get mad because we live from paycheck to paycheck. I bet my right arm that my friend’s mom wishes that her daughter was here and her least problem was living paycheck to paycheck. That’s why when people ‘compliment’ me about not complaining about lupus, I take it with ease. There are people worse off than I. I may be broken in many ways but I am still here. I am physically broken but I am still here so that my mama can kiss me each morning before she leaves for work. I am financially broken but I’m still here so that my three year old cousin can crawl up in the bed with me and call me a jerk. Sometimes I am so mentally spent from dealing with the effects of lupus but I refuse to complain because I am still here to see the dawning of a new day. What you are going through really isn’t that bad. Honey, remember this if nothing else, if you can look up, you can get up.

Things may not be going your way and they may not have been going your way for 20 years but YOU ARE STILL HERE. Now is not the time to feel sorry for yourself. So you feel like you are at the end of your rope? Tie and knot in that joker and old on. My friend didn’t deserve to die especially not so violently but you and I know that she would give anything to be in my position or yours. She would give anything to have her mother kiss her. She would give anything to hold her daughters’ hands. She would give anything to see a sunrise again. But sadly, her thirty years of life was snuffed away in an instant.

So laugh a little harder. Smile a little wider. Things are going to get better and know that trouble don’t last always.

"See I decided that I cried my last tear yesterday
Either I'm going to trust you or I may as well walk away
'cause stressing don't make it better
Don't make it better, no way
See i decided that I cried my last tear yesterday
Yesterday, I decided to put my trust in you
Yesterday, I realized that you will being me through
There ain't nothing to hard for my God, no
Any problems that I have
He's greater than them all, so
I decided that I cried my last tear yesterday..."
Mary Mary, Award Winning Gospel Duo

Today was kind of a sad day. I finally resigned from my job in Tallahassee. I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t going back to my beloved adopted hometown any time soon.

I was holding out hope for a healing but clearly, the healing isn’t coming on my time. So in the meantime, I have to wait. When I moved back to my mother’s home at the end of March, I didn’t want my car unpacked. I just knew that one day I was going to wake up feeling great. Then I would get in my little car and head on back down I-75. I told my cousin to park my car behind the house because everything I owned was in it. Every article of clothing, every shoe, my television, my radio and important paper that I had was in my car. I did have my Social Security card in my wallet so I felt somewhat safe.

I knew better than to drive the car around the city because I didn’t want anyone to carjack me. One day I was home alone and got really hungry. My mother wasn’t here to tell me no and so...I drove. Fast. To the mall because I was hungry. Common sense would have told me to get food from a drive thru but nooo, my bright self wanted food from the mall’s food court. I parked the car and shuffled into the mall all for a Chicken Philly submarine from Charley’s Steakery. Needless to say, I prayed all the way to the mall and all the way back home.

My mother would continually ask me when I wanted my car unpacked. I would tell her never. She would close my bedroom door and leave me alone. One day she even sent one of my younger cousins in my bedroom to ask me. “Never,” I replied. What did she think? I was going to tell him something different than I told her? The only difference between the two of them is that I could have hit him and gotten away with it for asking such a ridiculous question.

It was getting warm outside and my car hadn’t been washed in months. It had all kinds of bugs and things on the hood from being driven from Tallahassee. I took my car through the car wash with all of my things inside. Every article of clothing, every shoe, my television, my radio and every important paper that I owned. I still had my Social Security card in my wallet so I still felt relatively safe. When I made the short trip home, that same little cousin was sitting in the backyard. He declared me “retarded” before walking in the house. I didn’t care because I was going to be healed-on my time-and I was going back to Tallahassee.

That was two months ago. Now I am sitting in my bedroom with every article of clothing that I own hanging neatly in my closet. My shoes are stacked high in my closet. My television and radio are in the proper places and my Social Security card is still safely in my wallet. I have come to realize that I’m not going to be healed on my time but rather His time. And that won’t be a moment too late.

“(He's an on time God, yes, He is).
Oh, on time God, yes, He is.
(Job said), He may not come when you want Him,
(but He'll) be there right on time;
(I tell ya He's an) on time God, yes, He is."
Dottie Peoples, Gospel Singer

I hate to see people suffer. Especially good people.

April was my crying partner (sorry girl that I had to rat you out) as we were two of the 9 million people that watched “Farrah’s Story”. Farrah Fawcett is the 70’s icon that was known for her beautiful mane. She also made up one third and one season of television’s Charlie’s Angels. She is currently battling anal cancer that her doctors have declared terminal. Terminal means there is nothing else doctor’s can do and they send you home to die. There is no pretty way to put it.

Farrah is blessed to have resources (read: money) that many of us could only imagine. She went to Germany several times for alternative treatments to lengthen her life. I don’t blame her. Sadly, some people do. Some folk have been really harsh in their criticism of the star. They say some things should be left private. I agree but this is not one of them.

Cameras rolled as she heaved into a bedpan because her treatments were making vomit. Cameras rolled as she broke down in her oncologist’s office after being told that her cancer had returned. Cameras rolled as she began sorting all of her cancer medications. The number so numerous that she quickly lost track of what to take when. Cameras rolled as she began to lose her hair after intense chemo treatments. I could relate to all of that. It seemed as though everything she had been through with cancer, I had experienced with lupus.

I remember being at work one day and holding my head over the garbage can praying that the vomit didn’t come. I have never cried in my doctor’s office but I certainly cried in my car on my way home due to potentially distressing news. I, too, can’t keep up with every prescription, vitamin, steroid that I am supposed to take. My pill box looks like a Crayola box. I have a pill in every color. I know about losing hair and like Farrah, I cut mine off before lupus took ahold of it. I had always said that I was going to get a sassy haircut for my 30th birthday but when lupus struck, the sassy haircut came three months shy of my 30th birthday. I knew that I was going to cut it before lupus made me lose it. With so much in my body out of wack, I WAS going to control something. So I got a short sassy haircut and taunted lupus telling it that I got to my hair first!

I am just glad Farrah gave us an inside look into what cancer does to a person. She let folks see how the disease is not only affecting her but also how it affects those who love her. There were quite a few touching moments in the documentary. Her son was released from jail for a couple of hours to visit her. He was in ankle shackles as he laid beside his mother and sobbed. His father then joined the two of them and they all sobbed together. Me and April sobbed, too.

If I was able, I would have my battle with lupus documented also. Many folks still don’t know about lupus and it’s affects and I don’t mind sharing. If it’s to help and educate, then I am all for it. Like her, my purpose isn’t for pity but I would rather show how something like disease can bring people together. I have seen so much positive change in many of my friends since I have taken ill. Many of my friends who pre-lupus would never say “God” or “prayer” are now Jesus and prayer fanatics. Haha. How God works! How awesome is He! If he has to use me as a martyr to reveal Himself through me then, I’ll go. He has already chosen me. So as the chosen one, I’ll go.

Like Farrah, there were times, when I got scared. There were times when I wanted to throw my hat in and say Lord just take me to heaven with a Happy Meal with an Orange Drink. There have been many days when I have said Lord, I just want my life back. Then as quickly as those feelings came upon me, there was always a still voice saying, “Remember the story of the Hebrew boys, Meshach, Shadrach and A-bad-Negro. They had to go through the fire but at the end they got a promotion. The king promoted them as I will promote you. You have to go through the fire to get you to where I need you to be. I am the same God, today, yesterday and forever more. If I saved you before, I will save you again.” Amen. I was always comforted in my rest.

In the documentary Farrah said, “The devil makes you sick. God heals you. My life goes on…and so does my fight. And by the way, what about you? What are you fighting for?”

I will keep fighting for the 10 year old girl in California who was diagnosed with cancer and had to have a breast removed. I will also keep fighting for Joy who lost her battle with lupus. I will keep fighting for the Maiyas, Juaquanas, Lamars and the Camilles of the world. Diseases have also touched their bodies unfairly and like me, they have resolved to live, stand and fight. I’m excited to see what God has prepared for each of us on the other side of our battles. Keep watching because I know we will all have a triumphant end.