DELILAH DIOR DOMINICA

  (March 2013)   My husband and I spend the month of March in Windsor, Canada in what we call our “lake house.” As we packed up the car and pulled up the navigation for our long road trip up north, my husband reminded me that when we returned home, there would be flowers blooming and sun shining everywhere we looked. It was hard to believe while watching snowflakes form crystal patterns on the windshield, but we all know that after Winter (no matter how long it lasts) comes Spring. Well, March came and went. Our drive back to Virginia was easy and sunny, just as my husband had said. We enjoyed our first day back in our home and spent the night enjoying a full DVR.             The next morning when I was getting dressed for the gym I realized something wasn’t as it should be. There was no sun pouring in from behind the curtains, no sound of lawn mowers and kids playing, wasn’t this Spr...

--> With Valentines Day just around the corner, love is certainly in the air. Red and pink have snuck their way into every crevice of the universe and glitter and lace are racing off the shelves. I personally have always been a fan of Valentines Day. I’m sure my affection for the holiday began in kindergarten when we exchanged Power Ranger and Lisa Frank Valentines and got to eat candy by the bucket-full before our parents could tell us “just one.” Since then, I have learned that, to most, Valentines Day means roses, chocolates, wine, smiles, candle-light, and romance.   To me, it just means love-letters. I am a self-proclaimed love-letter addict, so can you blame me for being Valentine’s biggest fan?             When we are young, the ‘love-letters’ come in the form of simple and mass-produced cards that have a catchy rhyme and a to: and from: spot. Somehow, that was all it took to convince me that a boy reall...

I have said many times before that we should look different than everyone else. We should measure our ethics and standards against the Bible rather than measuring ourselves against this world we live in . I have been hearing this message everywhere I turn lately, and today it hit me like a ton of bricks.             My husband and I took a class at our Church yesterday and at the end of the six-hour meeting, the Pastor randomly spoke about driving the speed limit. He said “The law says drive 50, but ‘everyone’ is driving 70…what does obedience look like here?” That watered something in my spirit that had been growing, but I didn’t think twice about it. You see, a few months ago my husband heard in his prayer time that he needed to drive the speed limit. All. The. Time. It makes me insane to be chugging along at a ripe ol’ speed of 55mph on the highway. My heart nearly bursts every time I’m in the pass...

Two weeks ago, I witnessed another miracle first-hand. I have had serious back issues since I was 15 years old, and this past weekend I threw my back out and was unable to walk or move properly for the better part of four days. Everyone's first question when I say I threw my back out is "Oooooh, doing what?" (Winking and giggling and raising their eyebrows suggestively...) and they are so disappointed when I tell them the truth: I threw my back out while sleeping. Literally . I had thrown my back out in the past, but this was the worst by far. I was in constant pain, my back and stomach were swollen to the point where my ribs were bruising me with every breath, and for those four days I was petty much useless. (Shout out to the best husband in the world for cooking/preparing my meals, putting me in the ice machine, keeping my Ibuprofen schedule, setting up my styling photo shoot, and walking behind me rather than ahead of me, no matter how much lon...

I have felt a tug on my Spirit to share a story with you for a few months now, but never was quite compelled enough to type it all out. Now I know why. Last Thursday evening the story was finished, and now, throughout the course of this week,I am ready to shout it from the rooftops. I grew up in a Christian household. I have two incredible parents that are God-fearing and honoring in all they do. I have attended Christian schools my entire life. I can recite Bible verse after Bible verse for you, and tell you all the stories of Abraham, Moses, Jonah, David, Solomon, Noah, and all of the fellas Jesus hung out with. These things are all wonderful and important for a believer, but until very recently I was missing a key component to this life: I did not have faith. Now, I know some of you are scratching your head thinking, "how can she say she is a Christian without having faith?! WHAT AM I DOING READING THIS BLOG?!" Hopefully I can help clarify what I mean. I have alwa...

--> We should look different from the world. I’m not saying we should have blue skin or wear aluminum foil on our fingers or anything like that, but people should be able to look at us and notice we are not like this world we live in. I used to have a goal to look just like everyone else. As a nearly six foot tall mixed girl, I have always stood out in my surroundings. I spent elementary and middle school in a pretty much all white community. I so desired to be my friends Monica Lake (Hi if you’re reading!) and Stefany Fischer (Hi to you too!) because they were teeny little things that the boys could pick up and people could play chicken-fight with. For those of you not familiar with Chicken fighting- it is a game where two people sit on the shoulders of two other people and face each other for a scrappy fight in the pool. The first person to be knocked over loses. As you probably guessed, I was always on the bottom-half drowning, half supporting my featherweight best f...

--> Today is the kind of day that dreams are made of. There is still the warmth of summer in the air, but the autumn wind is here. Rain has been beating against our windows since 5am, and the sky is a perfect shade of grey. I was able to get a pool workout out of the way early this morning, and came right home to stay in the bubble bath as long as I pleased. It’s Tuesday. Last year, for every Tuesday in September-December, I spent nine hours in a classroom in San Francisco. I was tapping my pencil, sorting through fabric swatches, and staring halfway at my book and halfway on the clock. Why? Because after class I would rush back to the apartment, pack up what I needed for the rest of the week and fly home to Virginia. Flying is certainly not my specialty and unfortunately, I was dealing with a stomach bacteria and brand spankin’ new corn allergy in those months to go along with it. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take enough classes online to graduate on time, and I kne...