When I was a college student, I had a reading. The reading was just supposed to be for kicks and giggles, but the reader looked me dead in the eye… then over my left shoulder and told me that I would become accomplished, but that I had a calling. Not only that, but that if I didn’t fulfill it, I would never be satisfied. The problem…. She never told me what the calling was.

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I assumed it meant to be a preacher. Who else gets called? I didn’t want to be a preacher… So I decided to marry one.

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Preachers are boring. And cheap. The excitement can be great, but always short lived.

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I went on with my life, and true to her word, I achieved a great success but for some reason I have never been able to access all that my degrees held for me.

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My family is from South Carolina. And they have always had one foot in the occult and the other in the blood of Jesus. So I learned at my mother’s knee how to manipulate energies, how to protect myself and a host of other practices. It never seemed like we were doing something different than other folks… but we were. I have come to learn that what WE do is not common. But it’s powerful.

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Again, I didn’t want to be root doctor. Root workers have a negative public persona. I drank the Kool-Aid thinking that if I was to do this, I would always be poor… always be unattractive… Be shunned by society… Have warts… A noticeable limp…. So much foolishness….. But that is all untrue.

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The moment I agreed to be internally and externally honest with my gift…  Blockades burst open and blessings have rained down on me. This is my calling. I’ve finally answered!