DAD KNEW BEST: Longtime Texas motivational speaker Joie Rasberry embraces the remarkable amazing of her ‘God-fearing’ father, who passed away in August 2007
Beloved, I pray that you may prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers.(3 John 1:2/NKJV)
A FATHER’S UNYIELDING LOVE
FOLLOWING DAD’S LEAD —As part of Making Headline News’ advance coverage of Sarah Jakes Roberts’ All Hope Is Found: Rediscovering The Joy of Expectation book signing in Dallas the weekend of October 27, accomplished Texas motivational speaker Joie Rasberry recalls how she admittedly harbored mixed emotions amid that memorable conversation with her father, one that, to this very day, she senses has changed the trajectory of her life.
Just recently, Joie Rasberry caught up with a childhood friend over dinner.
Given the conversation that unfolded, it’s safe to assume it is one that will remain dear to her heart for years to come.
“Having dinner with my childhood BB neighbor and friend reminded me that our parents brought us up in the nature and admonition of the Lord,” Rasberry told Making Headline News this week. “It’s the world that pulls and tugs at us until it contaminates us. We are on loan to our parents by God.”
For the record, Rasberry is alluding specifically to a recent eloquent, in-depth, thought-provoking post she displayed via social media, one in which she vividly recalls the immeasurable impact her parents have had on her life.
BLESSED BEYOND MEASURES —A well-respected Houston-based international motivational speaker, best-selling author, and master speaker development coach in her own right, Rasberry doesn’t shy away from the notion that a majority of the success she’s blessed to inherit has emerged in large part because of the massive influential impact her father had on her life.
In addition, it was a spiritually-empowering, emotionally-driven post the chronicles an integral part of Rasberry’s life, particularly how the longtime Texas businesswoman has managed to defy arguably the grandest of odds.
Said Rasberry on the morning of October 21 before her gallery of followers via Facebook:
“On my father’s death bed, he asked me to take care of my mother because she would eventually need it. I wasn’t 100 percent sure at the time of what his statement meant, but some 16 years later, it has all begun to make sense. Nearly 10 months ago when my mother suffered a stroke, then a nervous breakdown, my dad’s words came back to me. Truth is, my dad sat in his recliner for more than 50 years, watching the goings and comings, watching the behaviors of his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, thus it was like a premonition. He was preparing me for what was to come. Nothing has caught me off guard. I knew it was coming because my dad said it would.”
As part of Making Headline News’ advance coverage of Sarah Jakes Roberts’ All Hope Is Found: Rediscovering The Joy of Expectation book signing in Dallas the weekend of October 27, Rasberry recalls how she admittedly harbored mixed emotions amid that memorable conversation with her father, one that, to this very day, she senses has changed the trajectory of her life.
“I was honored in that he trusted me and what he was asking meant, he had the highest level of confidence in me,” Rasberry said of the dialogue with her father. “I was saddened because I knew my dad’s presence made a difference in our family. He was a hardworking man of faith, but he also has a no-nonsense side. After retirement, he would sit in his recliner, and with divine intuition, he knew what was going on throughout the entire house. He knew how to cut things off at the knee so that it couldn’t walk.”
Sadly, Rasberry’s father passed away in August 2007.
A little more than 16 years removed from his demise, Rasberry, to her credit, deemed it essential recently to take inventory of her — to recall just how far from which God has brought her, if you will.
A well-respected Houston-based international motivational speaker, best-selling author, and master speaker development coach in her own right, Rasberry doesn’t shy away from the notion that a majority of the success she’s blessed to inherit has emerged in large part because of the massive influential impact her father had on her life.
Besides functioning as an accomplished empowerment professional, Rasberry has worked as an on-air public affairs news radio co-host, a contributor for several magazines, a high school educator teaching Speech, Debate & Professional Communications, as well as an adjunct college Speech professor.
FULFILLING HER DESTINY
AWE-INSPIRING JOURNEY —“If my father was alive, he would tell me to keep looking to the hills from whence forth cometh my help,” said Rasberry, referring to the familiar Biblical passages of Psalm 121:1-2. “He would tell me don’t give nothing for my journey. And he would tell me to keep loving the unlovable. He would thank me for carrying out his charge of taking care of my mother and he would remind me that every bump in the road has added another star to my crown. He would thank me for being a hope dealer, purpose pusher, trailblazer, generational curse breaker and child of God.”
All things considered, though, her solid work ethic, she said, comes after she had spent a majority of her childhood watching her father provide and look out for his family.
“I remember how hard my dad used to work, getting up every morning around 4 a.m. and out of the house by 5 a.m.,” Rasberry wrote in that recent Facebook post. “Before leaving, he would make his rounds, going from room-to-room, flipping on lights, making sure his family was okay before he left. There were times he woke me up because he wanted me to witness what he saw. During the night, my sister’s boyfriend would have slipped in.
“Well, she let him in. Both of them in my parents’ home, sound asleep, and high. My dad would go to his room, grab his rifle, and wake them up with the butt of his gun. A few days later, they would do the same thing all over again. The more I think about it my daddy could have killed them, but he let them make it. He was a good man. A hard-working man. A family man. A Christian man. A deacon in the Lord’s church.”
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LEADING BY EXAMPLE —“My parents were hardworking Christian folk who brought their children up in the Lord,” Rasberry told MHN. “The two oldest girls left home early. My parents raised some if not all of their children while one spent time in prison and the other battles drugs and alcohol. My brother was the youngest. He and I spent a great deal of time with our parents at church, but also at juvenile facilities, jails, hospital emergency rooms and prisons for women. We saw what happened when die-hard Christians have children who go astray.”
Aside from being a constant protector of his household, Rasberry relishes how her father would often remind her to look after her mother, to whom he had been married for 50 years before his death 16 years ago.
“My father asked me to care for my mother three months before he passed away,” Rasberry recalls. “The doctors had given him three months to live, and this is when he began the conversation.”
Rasberry, meanwhile, deemed it foregone conclusion to heed her the wise counsel of her father whom, as she tells it, was a righteous, God-fearing man who steadfastly exemplified a great deal of spiritual discernment, particularly when came to the advancement of his family.
“In many ways, I felt that my parents used not tooting accolades as a way of protection,” Rasberry explained. “Parents know their children. They know the good, bad, and ugly. They know which ones are heavy weights and which ones are light weights. Likened unto Joseph, his own brothers went after him and wanted him dead. I am no different. Be it the alcohol or other substance abuse that made my sister say cruel and mean things, which trickled down to her children, my parents knew that Satan changes people when he gets into them.
SET ASIDE FOR GOD’S USE
DEFYING MASSIVE ODDS — Though she is the self-proclaimed “black sheep” of her family, Rasberry would be the first to admit she doesn’t take lightly the immeasurable impact her father had on her life — a supremacy she thoroughly embraces to this very day.
“My dad was my shield and protection when he was alive,” Rasberry continued. “My mother was always a God-fearing, quiet humble woman. She was afraid of those volatile and explosive behaviors, and without my dad, who knew how to handle things, we became prisoners to abuse.
“My parents were hardworking Christian folk who brought their children up in the Lord. The two oldest girls left home early. My parents raised some if not all of their children while one spent time in prison and the other battles drugs and alcohol. My brother was the youngest. He and I spent a great deal of time with our parents at church, but also at juvenile facilities, jails, hospital emergency rooms and prisons for women. We saw what happened when die-hard Christians have children who go astray.
“My parents had me in lots of activities — theatre, speech, choir, basketball. They wanted me to be well rounded. I also think they wanted me away from madness. They showed up at my performances and events, but at home they were quiet and usually would not talk about it. I definitely feel like a modern-day Joseph. I am the black sheep and for good reason. I now know that God separated me to keep me. It would have been so easy for me to follow down that same path because that is what I saw, but instead, I was called to something greater, and I knew this at a very young age.”
Though she is the self-proclaimed “black sheep” of her family, Rasberry would be the first to admit she doesn’t take lightly the immeasurable impact her father had on her life — a supremacy she thoroughly embraces to this very day.
“If my father was alive, he would tell me to keep looking to the hills from whence forth cometh my help,” said Rasberry, referring to the familiar Biblical passages of Psalm 121:1-2. “He would tell me don’t give nothing for my journey. And he would tell me to keep loving the unlovable. He would thank me for carrying out his charge of taking care of my mother and he would remind me that every bump in the road has added another star to my crown. He would thank me for being a hope dealer, purpose pusher, trailblazer, generational curse breaker and child of God.”
In that order.
JOIE RASBERRY’S MEMORABLE POST VIA FACEBOOK
(In Her Own Words)
I had dinner recently at a Asian Bistro with a dear childhood friend & neighbor. She called me earlier this week with tears in her eyes and a tremble in her voice, struggling with family drama. She shared parts of my story she had heard and wanted advice on how to move forward with her own life’s situation. She wanted to know how am I doing it.
Here is what I know for sure. You are going to upset some folk when you stand up for what is right. Truth is most people are not right. You won’t always be liked, you will be talked about, and in my instance wished for dead.
You’ve got to stand and fight anyway. Let them talk. Let them scandalize your name. God is not sleep. He said that no weapon formed against you shall prosper. It may hurt, it may be painful, it may at times feel excruciating, it may even make you cry, but it will not prosper. There is a backdrop behind every story. Just know that abusers leave out bits and pieces of the story because they feel if they can discredit you, it will make them look good. With them it is always somebody else’s fault, and they never accept responsibility or accountability. They throw rocks and hide their hand. They are master deceivers and manipulators.
On my father’s death bed, he asked me to take care of my mother because she would eventually need it. I wasn’t 100% sure at the time of what his statement meant, but some 16 years later, it has all begun to make sense. Nearly 10 months ago when my mother suffered a stroke, then a nervous breakdown, my dad’s words came back to me. Truth is my dad sat in his recliner for more than 50 years, watching the goings and comings, watching the behaviors of his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, thus it was like a premonition. He was preparing me for what was to come. Nothing has caught me off guard. I knew it was coming because my dad said it would.
The doctors had given my mother up but I didn’t, and she is still here; walking, talking, eating, praying, smiling, laughing and more. There have been lots of trips to the medical center, doctors offices, physical therapy and occupational therapy. Do I get tired? You bet your bottom dollar, but it is the least I can do for someone who has done so much for me. Her being alive is proof enough to me that there is a God.
I shared with my neighbor and childhood friend that while honoring my dad’s request, along with defying the doctors odds, I’ve had to face many challenges. Like Pastor T. D. Jakes and Tyler Perry states, ‘If you aren’t hated by at least a few, you aren’t doing something right.’
I thought about everything my parents stood for, their Christian walk, their faith, the people they helped throughout the years, their children they raised and the children they helped to raise, the encouragement they gave, and all of their many sacrifices. The only way I knew to honor them is to look at the plaque on the wall that reads, ‘As for me and my house we will serve the Lord,’ and recreate the life they once knew.
I shared with my friend that when families are in crisis or in trouble they are often in deep denial. I accepted this many years ago but it has never stopped me from trying to respect and honor my parents. Truth is when one person in the house is sick, the whole house is sick. Addictions and mental illness are real and when people refuse to get help for themselves, they bleed out on everybody around them.
What my family is experiencing is reminents of trash that should have been taken to the dumpster more than 40 years ago. It doesn’t go away by pretending it doesn’t exist. It must be dealt with carefully, courageously, and with love. But be clear, love has to sometimes come across as firm, fair, and consistent.
I shared with my friend that my mom is now 83. She should be living her best life. No more stressing, straining, worrying or enabling.
I am not trying to be anyone’s best sister or favorite aunt. Those days are long gone. Instead my job is to provide and care for the one parent I have left.
All the madness and foolishness my mother has endured, especially in the absence of my father is over because I willed it so.
It is done.
It is finished.
I hear all the negative things that family members say. I’ve been hearing it for the past 40 plus years. I am not moved. Their version of the story is not the real one and that is perfectly okay. I am not trying to change anyone’s mind. I am simply trying to give my mother a better quality of life that she deserves so that she can live out the rest of her life in peace.
In my upcoming book, ‘On My Own,’ which will be released soon, I finally tell my story. I share how I sold my home of 22 years to return to my childhood home to care for my mother. The issue is I am refered to as the problem, when really what they are trying to say is I am in the way. I am here, calling it out, not letting abuse or addiction take place, and they are upset.
I will not sign off on the drugs, alcohol, pills, crack, fry, dope, weed, cursing, theft, stolen goods, or sexual misconduct, thus I am loathed. Mama’s house is not a rehabilitation center and it is not a wrestling match. My parents showered us with love and affection. I don’t know where all this other stuff has come from.
When my mother buried one of her great grandson’s less than a year ago, it sent her over the deep end.
She’s been through a lot her entire life with raising children and helping others raise theirs, and I don’t think she’s ever gotten a ‘Thank you.’ It’s funny how people will treat you like you owe them something.
No worries. God knows how to handle ingratitude.
For crying out loud her great grandson was murdered. An even sadder reality is during the time of the funeral, my mother had three grandsons and one great grandson incarcerated. All of them were in prison and couldn’t be at the funeral of their nephew, cousin, and brother.
Lord.
Have.
Mercy.
I am honest enough to say that something is wrong and it has been for a very long time. It is a combination of turning away from God, bad choices, poor parenting, addictions, and a plothera of so many other ills.
We can call each other queens all day to make ourselves feel good and to deny reality. When truth is we ought to be trying to help get our loved ones who need it into rehabs, therapy, counseling, and mental institutions.
Death, devastation, disaster, incarceration, addiction, relational fallouts, cancer, murder and so much more has shown up in my family throughout the years. It is the results of not taking care of what should have been taken care of 40 years ago. It is a result of ignoring things and pretending like they don’t exist. It is a result of sin.
All it takes is one person to do a whole lot of damage. That one unhealed person carries negative traits down to their children and to their children’s children, and thus things fall apart and the vicious cycle continues.
It also takes courage for one person to do a whole lot of good. These generational curses are tearing families apart, but God!
I shared with my friend that anytime you stand up for righteousness sake, you will receive pushback. Truth is people were used to living foul, in my parents home, and by my mom being an aged widow, she was very much afraid to address or say anything. She had been cursed out and talked about enough to the point where she would sit silently and let the rage blow over. Not on my watch. Whoever lost their mind, can go find it.
I was taken back and shocked the first time I heard it. I responded and reacted and it has never happened again, not in my presence. I can’t control what people say, think, and feel at their own homes, but I shut it down in my parents’ home.
I won’t even go into the specific words used in those excessive profane rages and all the verbal abuse or ringing the doorbell at 3:00AM high as a kite for someone to let them in. Mind you I was in my own home living my own life and I didn’t witness all that went on. In addition, my mom did not tell me because she knew I would react. She was a peacemaker. She always wanted everybody to get along. I respect that but I was not going to tolerate any abuse from anybody. So I shut that down too, all of it, because no one deserves to live in fear. No one deserves to be mistreated. It is not right, and for those who support it and think it is, I challenge them to take on the responsibility.
When teaching high school I talked to students about their language. Profanity comes from the lowest part of who we are. Intelligent educated people can curse you out without cursing you out. I’ve seen the mama talk crazy, the daddy talk crazy, the children grow up talking crazy, and the grands and great grands are not far behind. Rather than a family of cursers, why not a family of high school and college graduates. Why not a family of trade masters and military officers. Nothing is sadder than a fouled mouthed woman and a filthy talking man. You are a abomination.
What I learned in all of this is people are bullies. They tend to scream, holler, yell, and curse, but once you put thw boys in blue in their life, they become quiet as a church mouse. I’ve made the worst actors get right. They can do what they want to do in the street, in the next street, across the street, but here. No ma’am and no sir.
People have a right to live how they want to live, but they do not have the right to infringe their addictions, lifestyle, choices, and behaviors on anyone else, especially the elderly.
I recall as a kid my little brother and I was always at some hospital emergency room, jail, prison, or rehab with my parents as they were trying to support their children. Somebody done beat the he#@ out of this one, the other one stole from a department store, this one pawned my parents’ wedding rings, and another beating, and another one. It was like a horror movie.
I will never forget my mother took us on a shopping trip to Mexico via a chartered bus. There were lots of family and friends on the bus. The driver had to pull over and stop. Someone on the bus was high, throwing up, passing out, and had come out of all their clothes. We walked to the back of the bus to see who it was and I still remember the look of embarrassment and shame on my mother’s face. It was if she was saying. ‘Lord, why my child? Why not somebody else’s child this time.’
A few months later my mom quit/retired early from her job of over 25 years. She felt she needed to be home full-time because so much was happening at her house when she went to work. Needless to say, years passed and it continued to happen. She decided later to go back to work for the same company, and her time had to start all over again. I will forever be grateful for Anchor Hocking / Longhorn Glass / Anheuser Busch. They supported my mom and stood by her when her family was in turmoil. They remembered she was a good worker and gave her a second chance.
I remember how hard my dad used to work, getting up every morning around 4:00AM and out of the house by 5:00AM. Before leaving, he would make his rounds, going from room to room, flipping on lights, making sure his family was okay before he left. There were times he woke me up because he wanted me to witness what he saw. During the night my sister’s boyfriend would have slipped in. Well, she let him in. Both of them in my parents home, sound asleep, and high. My dad would go to his room, grab his rifle, and wake them up with the butt of his gun.
A few days later, they would do the same thing all over again. The more I think about it my daddy could have killed them, but he let them make it. He was a good man. A hard working man. A family man. A Christian man. A deacon in the Lord’s church.
As I shared with my friend, I know where the skeletons are buried. I was there the whole time. The generation after me either wasn’t born yet or were too young to remember what tormented my brother and I, what caused my parents so much pain, and some 40 years later, it is still the same old dysfunctional unhealed mess.
For years I was quiet, feeling outnumbered. Children tend to side with their parents, and sense I don’t have children, well, you can figure out the rest. I learned this from operating a residential group home. Even the worst parents have children who love them unconditionally.
Never-the-less, agencies such as the Houston Police Department, Adult Protection Services, and the Sheriff’s Department have always supported me, and yes, I will call on them if and when I need them. I am a witness that they do look out for the elderly. I learned I was not outnumbered. I have all kinds of support. Family and friends call to make me aware of the latest drunken rant, letting me know they are praying for me and my mom.
My mother and I talk daily about everything. She is well aware of the rift, chatter, and gossip. She knows who is saying what. She knows all about jealousy, envy, speculation, conjecture and sibling rivalry. She’s a smart cookie for 83. I am so grateful because she still teaches me how to live. She reminds me often, ‘Love the unlovable. God is going to handle the rest.’ Then she gives me such a beautiful smile and whispers, ‘Thank you, Joie. Thank you for keeping me alive.’ And that is music to my ears.
My parents went through some excruciating stuff raising their children, grands, and so on, coupled with the fact they had the most abusive son-in-law (not really, they weren’t married) and daughter-in-law that walked the planet. On that note, don’t question or rush me to get married. I’ve seen firsthand what bad seeds look like.
Sometimes you just have to let people talk and let them fantasize and create their own truth. I figure it helps them make sense of their world and cope with their own existence.
I want to say to all of you, who like me may have had to step in and make some hard decisions, and you feel like you are in it all by yourself, keep looking up. You are not alone. God is with you. It is not about those you upset or those who purposely choose to misunderstand you. They are not doing the work anyway.
All I know is God will lead, protect, guide and cover you as He have me. My responsibility and obligation is to my mother, and as long as the Lord gives me strength, I am going to honor her.
I pray that I helped my friend in some way or even helped you. Dealing with family is a very slippery slope. There is usually an abuser and a scapegoat; everyone else falls in line depending on how they choose to live their lives. Ethical integrity and moral intelligence does not come easy, which is why I bank on God to make every crooked way straight.
I asked the Lord to give my mother peace. Let her rest, let her sleep, let her relax. She has always been a quietly strong resilient woman, and when I saw her laying in almost a fetal position, mind racing, tears falling, while seeing and hearing things, I was in total disbelief. The attending doctor and I talked for quite some time trying to figure out and make sense of what happened. We talked about her life and history, her family and friends. And here is also what I know. Enough pressure will bust a pipe.
For those who said nothing was wrong with her, they lied. Her body and mind was giving out. She was tired, mentally exhausted, and overwhelmed. I told her I would do my very best to nurse her back to health. I would be by her side. And I assured her she would never live in fear again. For once, I felt like the adult as she appeared the child.
I assured her that not another grown child she birthed was going to curse her out or threaten her. Not another grandchild was going to use her home as a haven for anything illegal. Not another great grandchild was going to disrespect her. Not one.
My mom and dad lived a certain way. They had standards. And if anybody picked up behaviors that were not conducive, or if they chose to self destruct, it would not be here, not on her watch. Enough is enough. My mother’s heart and mind just couldn’t take anymore of folks issues and problems, even if it was family.
I am learning to pray for people from a distance. These people who have wreaked havoc on my mother have not taken her to one doctor’s appointment, bought one bag of groceries, changed one bedpan, bathed her, washed her hair, took her for a walk, sat with her, dispensed her medication or prayed for her.
We do a lot of investing in people who wouldn’t give two rusty nickels about us.
I’ve even heard that many of them don’t come to visit her because of me. Truth is they don’t come because caregiving is work. As long as the big holiday meals were prepared for free and granny would slip a few dollars here and there it was all good, but when the tides turn, we make one excuse after the other. It is all good because God is good.
Mama is resting. No more trips to juvenile, jail or prison units. No more trips to the post office to get money orders to send to put money on someone’s books for commissary, no more haircut money, no more free babysitting, no more disrespectful language as if they didn’t see her sitting there, no more living off of her rent free, no more making groceries out of her cabinets knowing that she lives on a fixed income, and no more free loading. No more police, ambulances, and fire trucks. The sound of those type vehicles send her spiraling.
If my dad were alive he would have long nipped it in the bud. He is not here, so I decided to do it for him.
All this talk about who likes who and who don’t like who, who can stand who and who can’t stand who is a smokescreen. Bottom line is you will from now on respect her home or go hang out at another home. You can go up the street, down the street, or across the street, but you are not going to do what you used to do here. It is called respect. And it is called honor.
Those hospital stays usually consist of just she and I, so at this point, I can’t worry about the ungrateful.
Let me end on this note. I was listening to a sermon the other day by the late G. E. Patterson titled, The Telegram of a Fool. He talked about how some people refuse correction. I couldn’t help but think about my family and so many families I know. We now live in a time where loved ones are constantly in trouble, yet they refuse guidance. Thus we have a lost generation who would rather bury a son or daughter than to heed wise counsel.
There is trouble at my house, your house, and even at The White House. It amazes me how a twenty year old, thirty year old, even a forty year thinks they know everything. You can’t know it all. None of us do.
As I close, I just want to thank God for choosing me. No one could have bared this cross as graciously as I have. Whether in the valley or on the mountaintop, I’ve learned to trust and love Him even more. — Joie Rasberry via Facebook October 21
TAKING NOTHING FOR GRANTED — “Having dinner with my childhood BB neighbor and friend reminded me that our parents brought us up in the nature and admonition of the Lord,” Rasberry told Making Headline News this week. “It’s the world that pulls and tugs at us until it contaminates us. We are on loan to our parents by God.”
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WHAT’S YOUR STORY? If you are an entrepreneur, business owner, producer, author, athlete, musician, barber, life coach, motivational speaker, cosmetologist, tax preparer, model, or pastor/minister who is seeking exposure and would like to share your story with an in-depth news feature, call Reporter Andre Johnson at 901-690-6587 or Facebook message him under “Andre T. Johnson” for details.
