I’m calling this one ‘FORCED’ RIPE

This weekend I got the privilege to be company to a seemingly [because moments captured in photographs and things seen at a passing glance can be flawed unless viewed more holistically, not to take anything from him or anyone else, hence the word, seemingly] great man, a family man, a veteran.

As much as I was there to assist him, he was more than independent, only solidly soliciting my help a total of two times.  Two times he absolutely could not do for himself what he required aid for.

He was one of those people we meet in life that further help us transform.  I kid you not, spending time with him further grew me.  I am better because I met him.

However, on the other side of this good thing were the gut wrenching growing pains of…

  • “What’s going to happen to Daddy?”
  • “Who will do this for him?”
  • “How would he be in a place like this, as pleasant as it is?”

….and the list goes on.

My heart felt dyslexic.  Like: ‘this place is a great senior home but is it a bad thing to leave him here’, ‘I don’t want him to ever feel lonely and alone but he can’t live in my home like I dreamed anymore…’ and this breaks my heart.

It used to be second nature to think that the man that raised me and first taught me love would spend the end parts of his 120 allotted years living amongst  myself and my family but not anymore.

My heart has had a hard time separating him from what he has become.

He is still the beautiful grandfather that gave me everything he could.  The same man that rubbed vicks on my chest as I giggled and coughed and chased his loving hands away being annoyingly ticklish. He is still the love that raised me. Sacrificed for me.

But my heart won’t let go of his unveiled face.

I forgive him every moment that my emotions remember and I guard my mind against judgement and hate.  I do not embrace the negative but I can never ignore it.

How do you protect your first love in his old age when during your transformation and transitions into who you now are; this healed, whole individual, surfaced truths you could have never imagined true?

When you grow up simultaneously abused and sheltered and always being sure of one safe place, isn’t it devastating to then find out that your safe place was only safe for you?

That the friends you brought home were on the menu so to speak???

Though he loved me, though he never abused me, though he protected me with his own life…he was the monster in the consensual lives of others.

The greatest anomaly I have ever encountered in this life has to be him.

(Hmmm, maybe it was the love of God and this is second. God’s love makes no sense at all but man is it good!)

Does consent adjust the parameters of pedophilia? Because I struggled for years with no’s I never said and yes’s that I did.  I have the scars to commemorate.

Every yes I said was safe. But the monster in receipt of my green light was undeserving.  They helped me help them hurt me.

That is the now revealed person of my grandfather.  The love that raised me.

The unveiled truth of a loving guardian who grooms and befriends children until old enough to say yes and old enough to be called adults and old enough to convince himself that it is therefore okay to engage. Children who blossomed before his eyes.

I have always been disgusted with the men in the community I grew up in, who sat around waiting on us girls to grow up.  mangoUnashamedly waiting for us to ‘ripe’.

Every woman as young as his children.  Their friends and now mine.  My friends.

I forgive him but in whose home will he live?


Rae Sonson,

January 15, 2018.

5:37 a.m.





Relearning NORMAL


[holding an opinion at odds with what is generally accepted]

I have lived in the wrong reality for quite some time now.  As a result, I ‘m finding it difficult to adjust even though adjusting will be phenomenal for my spirit, soul and body.

At least twice now my beau and I have ended conversations with deafening silence because he thought I wasn’t comprehending and I felt like his view was simply limited.  I have ended up either offended or bruised because I was being misunderstood and he felt misunderstood period. He has scrutinized my language.  That is, the way I respond based on what I know to be true in conjunction with my own experiences and my level of understanding.  I mean, I can only speak as me.

I have now become aware that I am relearning compromise while learning him and his language.  I felt threatened by his demand to respond in a language I have been unfamiliar with on personal levels but I now realize I need to give him what he requires, a response in words that meet his need.  A yes or a no, or an answer that is framed in the language that speaks to him. One that doesn’t always require this many words.

Pray for me.

With him my normal is changing.  Outside of him my normal has been wrong.

For example:

It isn’t normal to worry. Worry is an abnormality and a faith defect.  Worry says that as magnanimous as God has always been, that He is incapable of doing all that he said.  Like take care of us if we trust him to, defend us, fight for us, love us, mend us when we get broken, comfort us when we get lonely, never leave us (even when we deserve to be left)…worry calls him LIAR, INCOMPETENT, UNFAITHFUL, UNLOVING and UNKIND.

Another abnormality says that to be healed of anything I need an anointed holy person to pray for me for that healing to occur.  The truth is, though these people are useful to the body of believers and to those coming in contact with the love of God, I can pray for myself in faith and receive complete healing.

The phrase “I am only human” isn’t true.  I am spirit also. I worship God from a spirit place where I surrender my humanness to God and his spirit, to help me to not suck at life.

I now know that a thing like normal worship, is to dance and shout and cry or kneel and cry or be silent and cry or just be still and reminisce on Gods goodness or lay on the floor and cry.  Normal worship is simply what is acceptable to God and not what pleases the people around. Normal worship is what is honest and true and what pulls us into a deeper intimate relationship with our Father, God.

Normal is what honours God.

Find what honours God.

Ask Him.

He will show it to you.

What He shows you, that is your normal.


Rae Sonson,

December 10, 2017,

17:20 p.m.

Liar, Liars?

I was on my way some place after listening to Francis Chan’s book/series titled “Crazy Love”.  There is a point where he speaks of Holy Spirit.  Holy Spirit that inhabits us.  Holy Spirit that empowers us and helps us decode God and stupefy what He says to us so we can better understand what we are here to do; every single moment of every single day.

I was going about my business. waiting to cross the street and it would seem it took that long after listening for the truth of Francis’ statements to resonate.

Holy Spirit is always with us. Everywhere.  So does that make us nuts or liars?

What I mean is, if Holy Spirit is always within us, doesn’t that also mean that we always possess everything we need to honour God and do what God made us to do?

If we don’t acknowledge the big Holy Spirit elephant living inside of us aren’t we a little nuts?  Or are we pretending he isn’t there, lying?

I mean, picture this: say we do something wrong right? Right. It gets out. We say sorry because we got caught and so on and so forth.  We basically only truly feel sorrowful after all that happens.  Doesn’t that make us kind of nuts to have pretended that whole time that Holy Spirit wasn’t there too? Jesus was there the whole time so are we nuts or liars?

I don’t think we are coocoo for cocoa puffs.  I think we have been living like liars.  Choosing to ignore the presence of God every single moment of every single day.

Isn’t is crazy that we would be fearful of others finding out what we think, feel or do in “secret” when Holy Spirit in us feels all we feel, Jesus never left the room and God was looking the entire time?

So isn’t it true that we have been lying to ourselves, deceiving ourselves even?

How have we all for this long missed Jesus in the room?  Like, seriously did not even acknowledge him watching us do every single thing we have ever done.  We wholeheartedly missed the truth that Holy Spirit feels all our urges, passions and so on, just as much as he is our super power to do the things God wants us to do, think and feel.

We have lived as liars. Ignorant to the truth that every single day we possess every single thing we need to be our true selves.

We haven’t wanted Mom, Dad, Uncle Ben, Aunt Susie or cousin Shirley to see or know or hear or feel the things we have chosen to hide or keep hidden BUT God has never left the room.

Doesn’t this mean that we don’t actually regard God as God? Doesn’t this mean that we have limited him to the characteristics we decide he should have moment by moment?  Doesn’t this mean that in our minds we have made God small?

I feel like this could go on forever.  I mean, think about it.  When we don’t accept that forgiveness is as quick and simple as ‘God I’m sorry’ and meaning it or that grace means that yes we did all those things but Jesus died and took our death penalty even though we still have to face consequences.  Therefore, not accepting that we are truly free.  Doesn’t that say ‘God I hear you but I don’t believe you, you are lying’ ?

I don’t know.  All the things we’ve thought, said and done, we have thought, said and done in the presence of this all powerful, loving, justified in judgment and jealous over you God.  Holy Spirit felt everything.

When I lied, Holy Spirit tasted the deception on my tongue.

So, do we now after this revelation go back to talking to God from afar off and thinking and feeling powerless?

I don’t see how I could.

Right now, right in this moment, I possess everything I need to do everything God will have me do today.  I have the authority to command mountains to move and the humility to serve my neighbour in love.

Right now, right in this moment and in the moment to come (God’s willing), I have everything I need.

Right now I possess freedom.


Rae Sonson,

December 9, 2017,

8:53 a.m.



To be Honest…

…I am different again.

I am not the same person I was, again.

Yes, it is a little frustrating to keep changing but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I would much rather change and adjust than to become incapable of growth; because truth is, this is growth.

Just to clarify, my frustration is not entirely with becoming and then being different but more with the fact that the changes are not always where I wanted to see them.

For example: I learned to love some people from a distance.  That is, I entirely stopped communicating with them. In layman’s term, I cut them off.  I just didn’t bother.  Then growth occurred and I became different.  Once I became different I felt a need to reconcile and apologize to people that hurt me, for things I did in response to the hurt and pain they inflicted.  I said sorry to people that did a lot of damage to my psyche, heart and my emotions and it made no sense at all.

To be honest, God makes no sense at all.

He doesn’t.

Nothing about God makes sense.

There is no reasonable or comprehensible rationale (sense) to God.

Why does that make me smile?

I am daily different because He makes me new every morning.

Doesn’t that sound like Christian-mumbo-jumbo-Jesus-is-the-answer-for-the-world-today-bible-thumping-brainwashing-madness?

I think it does and I also like it a lot.

To be honest, God doesn’t make any sense to me and that is a major reason I love and trust Him; because I cannot explain Him.

God is an experience.

Much like love.  We cannot explain it but we know it once we’ve really experienced it.  It is an incomparable experience.

Then again God is love so that might explain why they are so alike and similarly quite often misinterpreted, misunderstood and undervalued.

So, I am different again and this time the different isn’t as easy as other difficult times I have experienced due to change but, this time is different.

This different challenges my faith, my trust and my beliefs- the things I hope for in God based on what I know about who He is, my ability to believe Him and the little knowledge I have grasped over the few short years.

This different says things like: “I love the church but I do not like church.”  That is, I love the people of God who God calls the church but I do not care for the institutionalized, legalistic, dead archaic tradition drenched version we have tried to enlist others into on their quest find God and answers.  A major step up from, “I do not like religion.”

This different finally recognizes from fresh perspective through new eyes, that things like Racism painted Black vs White, is not the root issue.  The attack on the image of God is; humankind. Broken and false identities that have lost sight of the love we were made from and for.

This different counts it all as a distraction from pursuit of God and His salvation.

Busy being woke we miss God.

Busy being angry we miss God.

Busy being beaten and brutalized we feel like there is no God.

This different says: “What if that is God? What if He is the chaos trying to usher us into His peace?  What if He is even bigger than how great I had thought?”

To be honest, I feel like I should be scared but I know God has fully equipped me to BE.

I can be different.  Different is okay.

To be honest, I already know this process will hurt and I will finally have to choose to be free from people. Especially with regards to assuming what other people may or may not be thinking.

I have yet to find a reason not to trust God.

So I choose to embrace His differences in me.

Knowing full well that tomorrow when I wake, I may very well again, be different.


Rae Sonson,

December 6, 2017,

1:29 a.m.

Just So You Know #2

First of all:

That thing was NEVER meant to kill you!

It tried but it couldn’t!

What am I talking about?

EVERYTHING. Everything that you have ever felt was too much, too heavy or even felt like you had too little of.

Second of all:

I used to be so afraid of happy.

But just so you know, God is awesome at being God.

When other people made choices that derailed us.  When we made choices that got us stuck.  God was still God.

He is still God right now.  Right in this moment where you feel like the blind faith he is asking you to exercise is a little too extreme for your taste.  Right in this moment where the fear you won’t admit you feel is suffocating you and crippling you just a little more each day.

He is here and he is still God and still pretty darn good at being just that; Himself.

So, just so you know, it’s okay to be afraid of what will happen after you surrender to whatever He said to do.

It is okay to be more than a little nervous about just how much He trusts you with the things he has already put inside of you, as well as in your hands.

It’s okay.

Just as long as you move.

Standing still when He says ‘go’ is the ‘no’ you think you have never told him.

Remaining silent when He bids you to speak is the rebellion you thought only the Israelites showed.

Believing that you can’t when He said you could, is the same as calling him a liar.  Has he ever lied to you before?

And again, just so you know, everything you will ever need is hidden in Him, waiting on your surrender.

So, I found a remedy to my fear of happiness.  It was the joy I found in Jesus.  It isn’t affected by anything but my proximity to God and my commitment to upholding my end of the relationship between myself and Him.

I also realized that all the things that could have and should have killed me or continue to cloud my vision and my perception of self, the closer I got to Jesus and knowledge of the Cross, I came to realize that none of them had that power unless I gave it to them.

So, that thing can’t kill you David!

Pharaoh no longer has God’s permission to hold you captive!

It’s time to behead that giant!

It is time to go home.

And just so you know, God has been awaiting your return.

Come home, you have plenty company- the entire angel army! And me!


Rae Sonson,

August 2, 2017.



Sleeves Full of Stains

It’s the perfect time for reflection. The perfect season; though I wasn’t reflecting.

Actually, I have a jeans jacket sitting on my bed. I took it from my closet to bleach it into something new. 

However, it’s a jacket I’ve had since high school and even since then I couldn’t tell you where I got it from. 

But I wore it alot.

And like all the jackets I wore alot in high school, I rolled the sleeves up to reveal blood stains up both arms. 

That’s how I ended up here, reflecting.

How Jesus knew I would need him those 7 plus years ago, and because of his almost incomprehensible love, died so I could have access to his comfort, renewal and refreshing.

He spent those 3 days in the ground defeating the things that would try to suffocate my purpose, stifle my true identity and ultimately be the premature death of me. 

Then on the 3rd day, he ROSE!

He got up with ALL POWER! 

Then *plot twist*!!!! 

Peep this, BEFORE he left he spoke this sweet victory over us, he said:

“I tell you the truth, anyone who believes in me will do the same works I have done, and even greater works, because I am going to be with the Father.  You can ask for anything in my name, and I will do it, so that the Son can bring glory to the Father.  Yes, ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it!

John 14:12‭-‬14 NLT


Now I know for certain that I have no deficiencies.

In Christ Jesus WE have NO deficiencies.

Everything we need is found in him. 

Because of his sacrifice and complete love we win, everytime.

Just because he suffered, died, and rose for us, we can look at old blood stains in old jackets, or even in mirrors that in former days only told us lies, that we were anything but beautiful and not only remember that he saved us from ourselves and from the lies of the enemy, but we can have confident hope that this isn’t where our stories end.

The best is STILL yet to come!

There is more to you and I than the places we have been, are passing through and will end up. 

There is more to our story- we will see God! 
Rae Sonson,

April 15, 2017,

22:53 p.m.

Why Do I Feel Like I Betrayed Love?

I was up but still laying in bed, unable to reenter that peaceful place of tranquility. I couldn’t go back to sleep because I kept hearing the grinding sound of grandma’s elliptical machine a whole floor below me.

Then the sound of glass shattering reached into my chest and gripped my heart momentarily crippling my ability to run from danger but instead urged me towards the noise.  I was terrified but I had heard my younger cousin shout, “Grandma!”

I thought she fell. I thought I was running downstairs to find my grandma covered in glass on the floor hurt. I grabbed some clothes, getting dressed in strides down the stairs.

She isn’t in the room, “where’s grandma what’s happening?”

I see this young female storm into grandma’s room just off of the kitchen and I thought, “Why is he and my aunt fussing?” Then the phantom woman turned a round and I had no clue who she was. All I knew is, my cousin is about to kill who ever this woman is.

All the while grandma is on the elliptical, earphones in, completely  oblivious to the ruckus in the kitchen immediately behind her.

I get between them and I ask my cousin to walk away so I can help this lady to safety, outside his reach and outside my home.

“I don’t know where I am, I’m not from here, where am I?” The terror in her voice shook me. 

I asked her what happened and I asked him.

The stories saw one major difference. She thought he owed her payment, he thought he did not.

Once my grandmother was finally alerted she came out to where I was, trying to help this woman I did not know collect herself and find her bearings and chased her off of her property.

She asked no questions. She took one look, deduced what her business with my cousin was and chased her away with as many colourful words as the moment offered her.

I felt my heart hurt. I felt my love begin to cry. 

This was not right. What was happening to this woman was not okay.

My grandmother fussed with my cousin about bringing trouble into her house. 

The woman called the police for help.

She was taken to the hospital while the police made us aware that she would be charged for prostitution since even though neither of them willingly admitted it at first, they had also looked at her, and coupled her demeanour with the wisdom of their job and decided it “sex for money”.

He was however taken in and charged for disturbing the peace and released following finger printing and the routine.

It all happened and none of us tried to see her side. She was charged before the police arrived. 

I cried when my grandmother ordered me inside and shut the door on her out in the cold and unaware of her surroundings face swollen from being assaulted by my kin. 

I don’t know why their agreement turned sour and ended how it did. I don’t know what she did to him. I don’t know what he did to her entirely.

I saw all the glass in the floor. I saw him hauling her across the kitchen when I ran and stepped in. I told him to leave the house when she first said she was calling the police. And though I also helped convince him to return, I had at first betrayed love and was willing to cover for him.

I felt like one of  “those women” who wash the bloody clothes then go out with placards crying for justice. 

I was guilty of a lack of love.

Love doesn’t hide wrongs.

Love doesn’t chase chase woman, even if she is a sex worker, out into the cold when it is obvious that she has no idea where she is and how to leave.

My love was silent and it has had me guilty in my own conscience and hurt in my own heart.

I felt like I betrayed her.

I felt like she was even offered help. Simply charged.

Her bruises barely acknowledged though her jaw was swollen near shut.

I helped her get no justice. 

She was wrong. He was wrong. But I was wrong too.

I could only pray for her redemption after the fact. I could only pray God infiltrated her day and allowed her to somewhere  encounter His love and see that he made her beautiful and that he made her whole.

I prayed my Love would shoe her his love and that he would ultimately save her soul.

I decided to love too late and I hope that my loving her too late is enough.
Rae Sonson.

April 10th, 2017.
I pray for your freedom!

Yours, his and my grandmother’s.

Just So You Know #1 &Tiny Letter #2

I realize I have had a lot to say about my mother on here. Not in an attempt to paint her evil but rather, to free myself by facing what I have either never said out loud or realized I was feeling until I saw myself write it.

To God be the glory I have been healed and I have been able to forgive completely. Daily.


Tiny Letter #2

I need you to forgive again. Every time you remember, forgive again.

Don’t allow your heart to ever forget to let heavy things go.

It may hurt to keep being hopeful but on the other side of hope is a realized future, keep hoping, keep believing.

God cannot lie, so do not ever believe the lie that your trust is misplaced.

Hope in God.

Grow in God.

Believe God.

Be as gracious to those around you as God has been to you; even the ones who hurt you over and over again and yourself.

You received grace, so give grace, live graciously.

Stay progressive, do not ever stop moving.

Every step you make with God is progress.

So keep walking.

Don’t stress because He hasn’t allowed you to see whats ahead. Simply trust Him.

He’s pretty good at being God.




March 13, 2017,

18:16 p.m.



You Don’t Have To Come Home

I would have traded my God for you,

and I did.

I would have told Him, “No, there is no longer room for you here,”

just so you would have room enough to be my everything,

and I did.

When I had found myself shut out of hearts that beckoned me home in the name of ‘love’,

I sat in dark lanes and begged for you.

I asked Him for you,

I looked over and around His love;

overlooked Him searching for you.

Then you came home,

and now I realize that you would have been poison.

I would have never met His love had I first learned love from you.

You chose absence and it cost you that lesson.

The necessary study of ‘Who,what and where is Love’.

Absent from His heart and mind you’ve been trying to find love,

but you won’t find it outside of Him.

We, me and Him,

we were good.

He was there when life stopped being easy.

He was there when the darkness daily tormented me.

He was there when the light often had me petrified.

He was there when loneliness meant the death of me.

He redefined me.

He’s always had me, always held me.

I sat in the stillness of what could have been pleasant  days,


“Will she ever come back for me?”

Then you came home

and I wasn’t what you came for.

You had come to collect your bag of precious memories today,

mull over your mother’s ills,

your father’s glory,

your families pains.

“Can she see me standing here, waiting?”

I have been waiting to know your name,

to see if your heart favours mine,

to hear if your voice has desire to rise;


Blocked, barred and walled off from who we could have been;

I waited in vain,

I’m waiting in vain it seems.

I thought you came home but you had only come to see if I was where you wanted to be.

And I haven’t been.

Mommy, I wish you’d stop visiting,

I wish you would see my street and keep driving,

that the construction work on my life would deter you,

and you would try another day but never do.

Consider me a  hydrant and lets maintain that 15 feet,

simply because you drain me.

Each time I see a silver lining you change the colour of the sky.

I sense you’re becoming a rainbow I never hope to see.

So, the next time you think of coming home,

please don’t.

Love, me.


Rae Sonson,

March 13, 2017,

17:17 p.m.

“E. T. Phone Home”

You never quite realize how simple life was, till yuh affi live a farrin…maaaan when yuh affi decide which coconut wata more natural yuh know yuh nuh deh a Jamaica none tall.

Then to go from the “city” (cidy hahaha) because yuh love green space and listening to the wind in the trees, to “country”, nooo man, NUH WEH NUH BETTA DAN YAAD! 

Everywhere in Jamaica was nice and close. Even the places I needed extra bug spray and lots of sunblock to get to or stay in. 

These 2/3 hour commute rough pon a small island girl. 

More specifically, these 2/3 hours commute without breath taking sceneries are very rough. 

A four hours drive to the country in Jamaica was relaxing and full of life and vigour. There is always so much to see. Even when Fern Gully was depleting it was still beautiful to pass through. The nice blue seas. The bright vibrant colours of EVERYTHING. 

I need a vacation to go exploring. I need to fill this hunger for lively engaging culture and nature and fresh crisp air. 

Yes, fresh air. 

Oooh, fresh sea breeze! 

I miss the choices I had: beach, river, waterfalls,….steam fish, fish tea, ackee and salt fish, kidney….I could eat some kidney right now. I just don’t know if I trust farrin meat to trust that if the package say kidney is kidney; from a goat that was a regular goat. Lol.

And if Summer think it going come and go again and nuh beach wata nuh see mi toe dem it mek a sad mistake.

 Then again, there’s real beach and then there’s beach in this the Northeast where the water is rough and frigid and the sand is desert hot. 

I have not yet unlocked the secret fun and magic of living in this place. 

I will though. Soon enough. 

Then I will have two places that make my heart happy. 

My island home and my soon to be northeast haven. 

Until then, E.T. is going to the South and if the South offers no appeasement then we are back to phoning home. 
Rae Sonson,

February 19, 2017,

23:49 p.m.