Nothing Less

Lord forgive me for not caring as much as I probably should

Or loving more than I probably could

Nothing Less, nothing less

Trying to give to the world my best.

I’ve crossed my T’s

and dotted my I’s

Believe in my heart that I will survive.

Faith with works make a powerful concoction

On that consumes me with conviction

And leads me closer to a new nation

Let it go; let it flow

Down the river it goes

Someone told me that if it’s in God’s will…I suppose

It will flow back to me and by His power it will never let go

We don’t know; we don’t know what the future holds

But I’ve been told

That it’s all in His hands

Please, take me to this river

Let me lay my burdens down

Let me feel the strength that my ancestors speak of when God’s around

Take in this fresh air and gaze at the still waters

Nothing less; nothing less

I will only get God’s best

By: Kou T. Nyan (like all the other posts) 🙂

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Doughnut Culture Thoughts

“So, do you know how many doughnuts you’ll be getting today?” The server asked me.
All of them, I wanted to say. But I said instead, “Um, one.”
I lived in this city for almost all my life. I went away for some time and returned a few years ago. When I did, I decided to explore the city more. More so for their food scene. So my life changed when I tried the new coffee brands and new doughnuts.
This particular occurrence happened one day during work hours when I had not had any breakfast. I told myself that if the tech at my job decided not to work, then I will treat myself to KNEAD Doughnuts. Of course, the tech did not work so I marched right on over to claim a tasty treat.
There is something about Rhode Island’s Doughnuts that I cannot explain. Filled with goodness, freshness, and creativity. Please do NOT tell me you have been to Rhode Island and never tried PVDonuts, KNEAD Doughnuts or even Allie’s Doughnuts. Or at least do not say you know me, or you came when they were all closed- something.
We drink coffee, teas, beers, and wines. We eat doughnuts here in Rhode Island.
I think the food culture is growing here. What would be next? I heard that once that it was the most significant jewelry capital of the world then became an art capital, and a tourist rest stop with food. Yes, I called Rhode Island a tourist rest stop. People flock to New York, Boston, Canada. They like our airport because its small and non-intimidating. They check our beaches for a bit and continue on their way.
While typing this, I realized that I am no longer hungry. How? I only had one doughnut, and I feel like I do not have to ever eat again, WHAT IS THIS???

So, I go to church…

CHURCH SHENANIGANS

I think they’ve found out who’ve been eating all the diabetics’ candies. I’m not sure if the nurse told anyone else, but I’ve been pretty cautious now when I head to the back for some water.

One afternoon, or was it morning, I was ushering as I’ve been doing for many years at this church since I’ve been baptized. I was feeling some type of way about my breath, so I walked over to the back and saw where the church mothers stored the delicious treasure…so I snatched a few for myself. Each week I ushered I made it a point to grab a few for myself for all the hard work I do, you know directing people where to go and smiling.

Maybe a few months go by, and I get caught. The nurse with a friendly grin pipes up from behind me, “Oh, now we know who’s been taking all the diabetic candy!” Although she was nice enough, I was still like, “OH SNAP! I’M STEALING SICK PEOPLE’S CANDY?”

I go to a church where there are predominately old folks. Or who the state would consider as elderly. They are people choosing to get their worship on and who think I’ve been in high school for the last 12 years.

“What school do you go to?”
“I don’t go to school.”
Silence, at least until someone explains that I graduated college a few years ago and confirms that I’m indeed in my late 20s. Sometimes that’s followed by shock. How could this unwed, five foot zero inch, no make up wearing, baby-faced, baby-dressed, girl possibly be a woman? I tell myself that when I’m 40, I will love it. I’m learning to love it now because at the end of all this-it’s actually quite humorous. The youth in the church lower their eyes to speak to me and bend to hug me and still muster up the courage to call me Miss or Sister Kou. I’m still granted some teaching roles, and very rarely someone will ask if I have a “friend.”

“I have a few good friends,” is what I always want to say. But then the new age in me want to say, “You mean a partner? A significant other?” But these questions make me think that someone FINALLY got my age right.