I have often quoted Dr. Michael Rhodes, author of Practicing the King’s Economy. He has enlightened many and trained more to take a cutting-edge ministry to urban neighborhoods.

 “If you want to create the kingdom potluck at the margins, you must relentlessly pursue the sort of community that makes it possible for the marginalized to bring a dish to the table.”

and

“Sharing meals together forced us to figure out how to be the body of Christ reconciled across racial, ethnic, and class lines.”           

Rhodes punctuated my mission statement in Orange Mound shortly after I began there in 2012. My call remains deeply rooted in the powerful message of Isaiah 58:6-12. I have worked among dedicated women with whom I worship, love, and serve, who have bravely shared their burdens for our city. This scripture inspires us to rise and embrace our divine purpose, igniting a passion within us to bring about transformation and healing in Orange Mound.  We are called to break the chains of injustice, to share our resources with those in need, and to shine our light brightly in the darkness.

So, we decided to do it with food.

Lunch became and has remained the anticipated “sweet spot” for all who work at the House daily. A volunteer, usually from East Memphis, drives into the inner city and dishes out a fresh, free feast for our famished friends.  The plates are filled to overflowing.

Within the ten years we have served lunches, I have adjusted my expectations and found that Dr. Rhodes may not have been familiar with the single moms we employ in Orange Mound. 

Some in our family at My Cup of Tea find it difficult to express acknowledgement of the daily fare which is given abundantly.  I question if food scarcity fosters a sense of shame for needing to accept the gift, rather than appreciation.

Most of our employees are unfamiliar with a potluck at church gatherings. On days without a designated provider of lunch, I've asked everyone to contribute to potluck lunches, fostering a spirit of giving, as it's more rewarding to give than to receive.

It seems most of the ladies interpret “potluck” as “let’s see how many items I can snag from the Kroger sale table!” We’ve had everything from half-off, half-frozen catfish to a sizable stack of canned beans.

I have recognized financial constraints can eclipse the ingredients for a simple meal to offer friends. Access to reliable stoves and ovens, and no access to time and energy to prepare, can throttle the best intentions. Cooking skills are lacking for some, and sharing sugary cereals, day-old fries, or stale pizza that works at home is embarrassing.
 
Prayerful and undaunted, I offered a new version of sharing the “vittles” this week.  Everyone harvested bushels of vegetables from our House garden on Monday. For the ladies who have mastered culinary arts, I suggested fried green tomatoes, tomato pie, and green beans cooked Southern. They accepted the challenge and combed the fresh produce on the counter.
 
For those still learning their way around the kitchen, I offered to lend a hand, and we cooked together.  Side by side, we made peach cobbler, apple pie, and sautéed lima beans with bacon. Hopefully, the experiment will be repeated at home. Two prepared cucumber salad, and another brought cucumber surprise. Printed recipes were available, and some picked them up.

According to Rhodes, “In God’s economy, everybody gets to bring a dish to the party”. This tells us two things:

First, the goal is to become an interdependent family gathered at God’s table.
Second, the potluck reminds us that some in the family struggle to bring their best dish because of their economic brokenness or inexperience. That means that if we want the potluck, we’re going to have to bend the way we work, earn, spend, invest, save, and give towards welcoming the marginalized.
 
I bent the rules, and we picked the pole beans. My hope was that every woman would participate, every plate would be filled, every tummy satisfied, and every heart encouraged. The fellowship at the table is made rich when all partake in the labor of preparation.

I have  renamed our endeavor “Mound Manna.”

It worked, and one said today that she is already looking forward to our next one.

Throughout my life as a Christian, I have often observed where God is at work and looked for ways to join Him.  Our missionally focused church has offered many opportunities and matched my enthusiasm to join other world travelers to be among God’s heroes established in the mission fields across the continents. Evidence of His activity and grace rest in my memories and subconsciously reinforce my faith.  Perhaps the consummate dependence on Him from the home front to foreign cultures, climates, and countries has led to the overuse of the term “miracle”. Many of us toss the term “miracle” into the flow of everyday life, when rather than a miracle, a surprise of grace sweetens the predicament and causes us to be in grateful awe.

           In the Bible, a miracle is a supernatural event performed by God that is beyond the power of nature or human beings. It's an extraordinary event that demonstrates God's power, sovereignty, and divine intervention in human affairs. Miracles are distinct from blessings in that miracles are specific, extraordinary interventions that demonstrate God’s power, while blessings are the good things God provides. And miracles are beyond natural law. They are events that cannot be explained by natural laws or scientific principles. Examples of miracles include the parting of the Red Sea, healing the sick, raising the dead, and Jesus’ miracles during his ministry.

            I have seen countless examples of God at work, but I have not seen a miracle in Orange Mound. A miracle must have no other explanation but the intervention of God.

We dwell in daily drama at The House in Orange Mound.  The dilemmas of “hood life” refresh our prayer life throughout each day. Chronic illnesses plague all of our employees and their families. Dependable transportation is unaffordable. These predicaments are common to all, pervasive, and resolved often with prayer.  The illness dissipates, the car starts, and the treadless tires get replaced. But though I can’t explain them without God, they are not considered miracles.

 Reflecting on the Lord’s surprising grace is the dailiness of life in the Mound. It instructs and enlightens us to His presence and preference for the poor.  Grace is the specialty of undeserved gifts God often proffers bountifully without being consulted.

From recent weeks, here are a fraction of the surprises and blessings of His handiwork for which we did not pray.

·         He brought a family member, who has made regrettable choices, to our house for lunch, and she sang of her desire to repent and trust the Lord for her addictions.

·         He opened the enrollment with one slot remaining at a superior high school, and a granddaughter was able to slide into her best fit possible in the fall to continue her education.

·         He has brought 4 ladies to apply for ownership of the 5 houses under construction on our block.

·         He has caused all our seedling plantings to thrive in our new gardens.

·         He has kept our temperamental air conditioner working through these stifling, humid, and hot days.

·         He has enlightened a kind doctor with the proper diagnosis for one of the ladies who had been given the wrong medicine for her asthma and was failing in health.

·         He has provided work and sustenance for the ladies who have needed extra hours of work this summer.

·         He has brought fresh marketing strategies for our coming gift promotions.

·         He has opened new portals of food pantries for a lady who lost her SNAP benefits.

·         He has inspired others on our block to repair and refresh houses.

·         He has raised the credit score 50 points for one of our employees.

·         He has protected us from harm.

·         He has brought us favor among donors and foundations.

·         He has led us in the discovery of His love and mercy in studying His Word.

·         He has renewed our faith.

·         He has released a family member from jail for good behavior.

·         He has brought attention to our product line through the media.

·         He has sustained our cash flow.

·         He has brought us new customers.

·         He has protected our property.

Most of us are unaware of the common grace that abounds in one week in the Mound and even in our own lives. While God is blessing us, He is keeping our neighbors under our grace cloud as well. His mercies are fresh every morning, and His indiscriminate kindness to believers and unbelievers is without measure, and sadly, often without notice.

But even when the blessings of His grace are not immediate or tangible, like many in this list, His grace is still unmatched and unending. As the classic hymn reminds us,

Sin and despair, like the sea-waves cold,
Threaten the soul with infinite loss;
Grace that is greater– yes, grace untold–
Points to the Refuge, the mighty Cross. 

Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God's grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin!

Social media posts about childhood trauma are the “Red Badge of Courage” for Gen Z and Gen Alpha. Are you even really a part of those generations if you can’t articulate some trauma, how it stunted your progress, and how you have bravely overcome it?  Scores of videos on Tik Tok and Instagram recount the “abuse” experienced by teens and young adults as children. I put abuse in quotations, not to make light of it, but to underscore that the definition has broadened.

Too many of the stories are horrific, and the perpetrators are deserving of prison sentences. The survivors need love, support, counseling, and empathy to overcome the psychological, emotional, and sometimes physical wounds they have endured. However, for someone born a Baby Boomer, Gen Xer, or even a Millennial, some of the stories sound like character-building struggles we all must endure, rather than life-altering trauma.

To the credit of the younger generations, we talk about trauma these days, rather than ignoring it or sweeping it under the rug. Spend any significant time with a member of Gen Z, and it won’t be long until you’re hearing about a pop star, movie icon, or athlete whose trauma affected their lives and careers. This trauma-focused banter has normalized the topic and led to healing for countless people, but it is also important to keep our trauma in perspective.

There are some tragedies that we can all agree would be traumatic for anyone – the loss of a child, being robbed at gunpoint, etc. Aside from these grave instances, people tend to process the same difficult situations differently. What is traumatic for one may be only an unfortunate circumstance for another. However, chronic instances of struggle or difficulty can also be traumatizing, and this is what we see and have seen with many of the women in Orange Mound we served.

We have told you before about the exposure to violence, physical and sexual abuse, and the struggle with addiction, many of the My Cup of Tea ladies have endured. These are for sure trauma-inducing events. What is equally impacting, or perhaps more potent, are the ongoing, chaotic adversities that plague the lives of some of the ladies–one psyche-rattling incident after another for life.

One recent morning, Cheryl, one of our supervisors, received a phone call. On the other end of the line was a tiny voice saying, “My mom needs help. She can’t breathe!” The child was one of the daughters of an employee. Cheryl told the daughter to call 911, grabbed another one of the ladies, and headed out to help.

When they arrived, the paramedics were already there working on the mother. Somehow, in the midst of the crisis, the mother had contacted her nephew to come and pick up her daughters. The nephew was with another man and needed the mother’s vehicle to transport the girls to the mother’s friend’s house. This raised immediate red flags for Cheryl, but after some intense questioning, it was determined it was safe for the girls to leave with the nephew.

The ambulance transported the mother to Baptist Hospital East, several miles East of her Orange Mound home. After a battery of tests and without a clear diagnosis, they released her, but she had no transportation or keys to her house. Debbie, our Operations Manager, drove to retrieve her. Then they traveled to the North part of the city, an area called Frayser, to collect the daughters. However, the house keys were not there. The keys were in the Northeast part of the city, still miles away from her neighborhood.

Eventually, the daughters, the vehicle, and the house keys were secured.

All’s well that ends well, right?

Not exactly.

For the moment, things are calm-ish, but this is simply a single occurrence in the cycle. It likely won’t be long before chaos ensues again. Violence or death will be imminent. There will be minimal, if there is any, support from family or friends. Financial resources will not be available to mitigate the circumstance. Fear and uncertainty will be like a concrete slab laying on the backs of those involved, paralyzing forward movement. And these events will continue to hammer the spirit of the ladies and their children, sowing new trauma and exacerbating the old.

We are not experts at addressing trauma, but we now have a better sense of what it looks like. Here are some steps we have taken that help.

It starts with the environment at The House. Debbie can often be heard saying, “My God is a god of order.” And The House is always in order, without ambiguity, and a place of peace.

We’ve written about our Kintsugi sessions that used the ancient Japanese art form to help the ladies process trauma. The tangible results of that effort are displayed in the kitchen at The House.

More recently, Dr. Fred Gilliam, a licensed professional counselor, has joined us for lunch on Wednesdays to hear from the ladies about their challenges and to equip them with the emotional and spiritual tools to cope.

Some of the ladies have taken advantage of therapy offered by Christian Psychological Center through the Memphis Resilience Project.

And, of course, we pray – a lot.

By today’s definition, most of us have experienced some type of trauma in our lives, and perhaps it has some long-lasting negative effects. What is also true is that most of us have never and will never live the repeated trauma faced by Orange Mound women. That fact can cause us to minimize the struggles they face or fail to recognize them at all.

While most of us scratch our heads at how Gen Zs and Gen Alphas view the world, we can be grateful that they have seen the trauma we couldn’t see and refuse to shut up about it until we start addressing it.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. II Corinthians 1:3-5

Our gardens are out doing themselves this Summer.  The corn is as high as an elephant’s eye, and the green bean stalks are rivaling Jack’s.

All of the ladies had been enthusiastic to begin the adventure of seeds-to-harvest once the garden beds were prepared.  We had embryonic seedlings residents of the greenhouse, and though we are still learning the complexities of organic gardening, we are quite confident of the Lord’s “green thumb” permanently in place in our yards and punctuating our greenhouse at the corner of Semmes and Carnes. All the ladies were prepped and exceeding all expectations for planting day, but one.

She is one of our newer employees who confessed she prefers the ice cream desserts, pies, and cakes our volunteers bring, and not so much the fresh vegetables offered daily. 

 We had noticed.

 She hasn’t been inclined to eat anything that is un-breaded or never frozen. I had considered her indifference and underexposure to gardening was the result of windowless apartment living and lack of time and curiosity about how things grow and seeds multiply. Back in February, I gave her a sprouted sweet potato with the simple instruction to keep it wet, hoping I might turn her thoughts toward self-health.

When the early spring day for planting our cultivated seeds arrived, her assignment was to plant bean seeds and seedlings in our new garden boxes filled with fresh, rich dirt and compost.  We have an irrigation system at last, and a steadily growing compost pile.  The summer of ‘25 has promised to be one of plenty, raising our bar to an impressive new height.

Once all used gloves were pulled from tired hands and the spades back on the shelf with everything secured, there were wire cages for beans and tomatoes remaining. We had plenty of bean seeds to share as well.  She had practiced in our garden so naturally, I encouraged her to take some seeds and bury them in dirt. She was insecure about her ability to master a patio patch and dubious that she could profit from something she didn’t fully comprehend. I also gave her a potato bag to house the potato vine, which she had been watching curl around her kitchen cabinets.

                In two clicks a new day dawned!  With incredulous breaking news, she initiated daily reports of the progress of the bean tendrils curling on the support on her patio.  They were flowering, to her shock, and pointed upward, and the potato vine was pointed downward in the potato bag.

Last Wednesday, she sent three pictures on our employee group text of her first bean clinging to the vine.  She claimed it as her baby and promptly named it “BEAN-oncé (like Beyoncé.) 

Birth of a bean and the birth of a potential vegetarian!  That may be a stretch - is ketchup a vegetable? She has considered freezing BEAN-oncè or leaving her on the vine to grow but is hopefully convinced with our prodding that she can dice her up for supper.  BEAN-oncé, we have hopes, is part of a family moving in.

We have been cultivating our gardens for 13 years, and all of us have reaped abundantly and been beneficiaries of the harvests. Only one other employee showed similar affection when she picked her first cucumber.   She cradled it in a paper towel and carried it to her family’s Fourth of July celebration.

The seed metaphors, replete in Scripture, are referenced often in our devotionals. Sowing the seed is so simple. One merely drops one seed in the dirt. If the soil is rich and welcoming, the Lord balances rain and sunshine to rouse from sleep a new creation. The rest is miraculous.  

So it is with the birth of faith, which is far more extraordinary and eternal than the beautiful lush green leaves and vines which are primping on our corner.  They will wither and fade at summer’s end. The future continues and the fruit multiplies for a believer in Christ. The Bible teaches that heaven rejoices when someone repents and turns to God. In Luke 15:7-10,  Jesus highlights that there is joy in heaven over one sinner who repents and this joy extends to all of heaven, including angels, as they witness the salvation of a lost soul.

                It has been pure pleasure to witness joy overcome doubt in the eyes and the heart of our BEAN-oncé-growing employee. Her trepidation about gardening has transformed into conviction, and we are elated for her. If we so enthusiastically celebrate the birth of a patio gardener and her simple bean grown from a tiny seed, imagine the joy in heaven at the birth of a new believer.

I spoke too soon about our property being free from theft. Yesterday, we arrived at the House to find two of our porch rocking chairs had been pinched.

We have a combination lock and dense, steel cable threaded through the rungs of our chairs, so the gutsy thief or thieves came with intention, cable cutters, and cover of night.  We also have security cameras integrated with the Memphis Police Department through the Connect Memphis platform.  Our employee who maintains our property, and I   reviewed the images recorded by our six cameras. We marked the time of the heist, noted peculiarities in the images, and like modern-day Nancy Drews, identified the culprits.

             Emboldened, undaunted, and resolved to exact justice, we took our evidence to the Tillman Precinct, where we had an appointment with Sargeant Purdle, and filed our report.

Returning to the House, we detailed to all who were waiting for our scoop on the meeting with Sargeant Purdle and assured everyone that the wheels of justice were turning.  We were respected, heard, and assured that a detective had been assigned to our case.

                The two chairs taken were the broken ones we had intended to glue but easily replaced at Walmart – a blessing. We are also grateful that the “dastardly deed” happened at night when no employees or customers we present. There was no damage to The House, no product missing, and no need to file an insurance claim. For all these years, God has shielded our corner from the peril lurking all around us. After all, it was on the sidewalk next door that an innocent woman was gunned down by her partner in a fit of rage. It was just three blocks down at Orange Mound Park where a mass shooting extinguished the lives of two and injured seven. Seemingly more frequently than before, local news is reporting on a shooting or other violent event in the less than two square miles we know as Orange Mound. It’s not “Lady Luck” who has been on our side.

I know that all things work together for good for us because we love the Lord, and in time I thought I would see redemption.

What I did not anticipate was the collective fury and ownership from the ladies – a remarkable possessiveness of our property. They were indignant, even vitriolic, at the gall of anyone who would trespass on their sacred ground.  “This is ours, and a sanctified place” was the unanimous retort.  We are not taking justice into our own hands I am assured, and we are encouraged that the culprits will be apprehended. The police have their pictures.  I doubt that they read this blog, so hopefully they are temporarily rocking on a porch (as opposed to selling the chairs for drugs or guns,) if they have the glue that will keep the arms and runners attached.

After a few minutes of ranting, cooler heads prevailed. They formed a circle, held hands, and Debbie led the ladies in a prayer for the salvation of these two men. We are reminded that two criminals hung on crosses next to Jesus – one on the left and one on the right. One railed at Jesus for not saving himself and them. The other admitted his wrong and asked that Jesus remember him. Jesus responded to the second criminal,

“Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

                We’re praying that our thieves turn away from crime and to Him before Jesus comes like a thief in the night.

The article is riveting. The virtually legendary Bill Dries, a reporter with The Daily Memphian, details the murder of Vice Lords chief Ronald Terry at the hand of a rival in a subset of the same gang. Terry was affiliated with the “Ghost Mob” sect and Tim Johnson, his alleged murderer, was a member of the “Traveling Vice Lords.” Johnson was killed by Vincent Grant in retaliation for the death of Terry. Grant was convicted after less than an hour of deliberation by the jury, and the announcement of the conviction last week was the impetus for Dries’ story.

The tales of gang life are fascinating in the way tornados pique our interest. There is intense curiosity coupled with abject fear. While we read about them, watch documentaries, and discuss them over coffee, few of us will ever join a gang or chase a tornado. Why? In part, because we recognize their destructive power and ability to end or drastically change lives forever.

For some of us, we wonder why anyone would join a gang. If you’re close enough to gang culture to be recruited or to “volunteer,” you must know or know of people who have been killed, beaten, or imprisoned. These are not disparate outcomes of the unlucky few. These results are commonplace.

There is a lot of research dedicated to the reasons people join gangs and the risk factors that make it more likely someone will join. Poverty, exposure to violence, poor academic performance, and lack of parental supervision are some of the risk factors. At their core, they all point to a need for belonging-a desire for a “sense of family.” No family is perfect, but in a functional family you provide for those in your care the best you can. You protect them from harm. You seek help when you don’t have the answers, and you guide them through difficult times and decisions. Gangs promise to do all of this and more, but, of course, do not deliver.

Across multiple versions of Scripture, the word “belong” is used 127 times. Regardless of which version you prefer, there is no dispute that the idea of and need for belonging is a prevalent theme. In a 2019, article published by The Gospel Coalition, Pastor Jeremy Linneman lays out 3 ways the Bible describes our belonging:

1.      We belong to God – Father, Son, & Holy Spirit (John 16:15, Romans 1:6, Romans 8:9)

2.      We no longer belong to ourselves or the world (John 15:19, Colossians 2:20)

3.      We belong to one another in the church (Genesis 2:18, Romans 12:5)

These three principles are the essence of what we desire to model at My Cup of Tea.

Over the last 13 years, we have employed women who were once a part of a gang. Others have children and close family members engaged in gang activity at some level. Where gangs have failed, we strive to succeed. We belong to God and not ourselves. We belong to one another.

No one goes hungry. We pray for each other, provide wise counsel, and seek help for our sisters when we lack the expertise to assist. The My Cup of Tea ladies hold one another accountable and forgive when they are wronged.

And if we no longer belong to ourselves, but to God and one another, then we have no choice but to extend that love to our community (Romans 14:8-10). So, we open our doors on the corner of Carnes and Semmes to other women who need a job. We share the yield of our gardens when we can and continue to work to do more. We lead Neighborhood Watch to partner with others against the ravages of crime. We encourage others to come to Orange Mound and witness a renaissance in its infancy.

The need for belonging is innate in each of us. Many people search their whole lives for something to which they can belong or for a place where they are surrounded by others who see them and accept them. If My Cup of Tea is that “what” or the “where” for the women we employ or our volunteers, it is only because to whom we belong.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)

          The Bible says that wealth is from God and belongs to Him.  Deuteronomy 8:18

“You shall remember the Lord, your God, for it is He who gives you the power to get wealth.”

          Mastering budgets that could make a significant upgrade in the lives of the ladies who work for My Cup of Tea is complicated. We have invited many experts in finance who have conducted workshops, lectures, and encouragement for stewardship of income over the years of our nonprofit’s operation.  All of the ladies have been offered wise counsel by the best in the field of personal financial acumen. Professionals have left materials and phone numbers for further assistance.  However, there had been no substantial progress until recently.

In this community, a little cash left after the bills are paid rarely beckons practical purchases or nest eggs. The very fact that the bills are paid is progress since so many came to us unable to meet their basic needs. Now it is time to think and plan.

Most of the ladies live in the red-hot moment. Splurging on a bouncy inflatable for a child’s birthday, a gel manicure, a new “lace” wig, sequined eyelashes, or a tattoo most often absorbs the brief moments of solvency.  It’s understandable because these luxuries - the kinds most of us take for granted - have been rarities in their lives. Consequently, some have the mindset that if they don’t snatch up these “trinkets” now, there won’t be another opportunity.

 Our mission at My Cup of Tea is repeated and advanced with every sale of tea. We are determined to open every opportunity for their pecuniary development and spiritual maturity.

Fourteen months ago, God empowered and called a dozen friends in Memphis with the same earnest concern and commitment to our mission at My Cup of Tea. These friendly and frequently visiting advocates have become empowering guides discipling women in Kingdom mentality and eternal investments.  Most of the ladies from Orange Mound have begun these new relationships with uncertainty. Embracing hope and confronting challenges can be formidable. Justifiably, a few have expressed suspicion of the intentions of gracious service and sacrifice.  Some of the new partnerships begin with dinner dates, a birthday card, and encouraging words.  Making headway is challenging when pride and frustration have persuaded some to quit the quest.  Speed bumps have multiplied, potholes have deepened, and there are no straightaways. Trust ties take time I’ve been told. I have testified to that.

Not so, however, with our newest employee, whom I have called Momma Bear, (MB) in previous newsletters. I am stunned, ashamed of my skepticism, and have repented of my unbelief because MB has welcomed coaching on new life choices and is in a visible metamorphosis.

Keen, unorthodox survival savvy has been her ideology. People reared on the streets know the pecking order of life and tell-tale signals of untrustworthy people.  She had me stumped when she decided to stay with us and pursue employment. I labeled her “Trouble” with a capital “T” and considered her a short termer but nevertheless our newest employee.  I asked one of our very busy lifelong friends to walk with MB for the brevity of her job with My Cup of Tea. She said yes and arranged her schedule to mentor MB.

Pam, (P), has shown me Heaven’s view of MB. P is a veteran of faith and Godly wisdom and now meets with MB at the Orange Mound Library weekly and reads with her Growing in Christ, by the Navigators. MB has used, as never before, her leftover cash, in informed shopping. She bought new Oprah Winfrey readers with frames on sale and now can stay on the line she is reading with P. She has been to church 5 Sundays in a row, and she is one of the few who has prepared to lead a section of Scripture in our weekly Bible class.  P recently drove the family to a horse barn in Germantown. They petted, fed, and sat on a real horse, an animal in stark contrast to the familiar house rodents, Pitbull dogs, and stray cats in the neighborhood. MB has peeked into the possible and is bold and vociferous in making the new view permanent.  P has seen her with the eyes of Christ. He sought out the street people, the Momma Bears, the discouraged, and the disregarded.

MB has also joined an exercise class at the Kroc Center with the extra cash from her last pay cycle, and her daughters are enrolled in swimming lessons.

P joins the dozen women like her who are shepherding our willing women into greener venues with patience and prayer.

Our advocacy-mentoring-discipling program has spawned companions and true friendships. MB is walking with P in a new world of return for her investments.

All give time and experience, connections, and networks for their companions to make wise choices with their extra cash on Friday.  But more importantly, they explore with them inspired choices for character strengthening and eternal impact. As said often before, our employed women who live within the boundary of Orange Mound are learning to steward their wealth, model their dependence on the Lord, and return honor and shalom to the once-respected neighborhood called Orange Mound.

The global marketing research industry was expected to produce $140 BILLION in revenue in 2024. According to Hanover Research, 79% of companies conduct at least 5 market research projects per year. This excludes the daily surveys conducted by pollsters on behalf of political candidates and special interest groups or nonprofits seeking to understand their supporters.

By now, you likely know that My Cup of Tea is somewhat unique in that we are a social enterprise - both nonprofit and business. As such, getting the lay of the land is of particular importance to us because we need to understand the perspectives of customers who buy our tea and other products, donors who contribute to us directly, and supporters who provide time, talent, and other resources.

Since 2019, we have conducted a customer survey digitally. We draft, disseminate, and compile the results in-house. 

And we take your advice.

Here are a few ways over the years that your responses have been taken to heart and put into action:

• A year ago we asked you about prices and if inflation affected your tea purchases. You told us it did, so when everyone was raising prices, ours stayed the same.
• You told us a few years ago that you wanted more sustainable products, so we've created sustainability gifts and offered reusable shopping bags.
• Some of you asked for extended hours and that we open on Saturdays. We piloted extended hours in the summer, but the level of business didn't cover our costs. We also began opening on Saturdays in December, which has worked and we will continue to do.
• And, you asked us to make our tea available in more locations for convenience, our products are now available in 24 locations in the Memphis area.

These are just a few of the ways we have used your responses to our survey. We compare the results to past years to ensure we are providing the best quality products and an exceptional customer experience. We don't take your support for granted.

Please consider taking a few moments to complete this simple survey so we can continue to serve you well.

Click to Take the Survey.

A Southern, mature woman, by tradition, is to be wise, kind, nurturing, informed, and a builder of her home.  Adults modeled and taught me these values in my formative years and placed me where I could absorb them. Once grown, my cultural community added objectives to the mix: women’s Bible studies, flower arranging, cooking classes, sewing clubs, smocking lessons, bridge lessons, travel, mission trips, garden clubs, Pilates, book clubs, and carpool line etiquette.

With these in mind, and overly confident, 14 years ago, I purposed with friends to share our avocations and hobbies with women who were underexposed to these domestic conventions. I set up shop in Orange Mound to supplement and resource women in poverty. Knowing without any hesitation or doubt that I was clearly called to women in Orange Mound, I concluded they were eagerly waiting for me and in search of manicures, massages, Bible hermeneutics, homemaking skills, and the like. I was sure that these would provide stability, dignity, confidence, relaxation, and friendships. 

Instead, every woman I met here was in search of safety, food, and shelter.

Stunned, I soon sensed my bundle of “perks” was of little consequence in the real world of Orange Mound. Most of my new friends were unchurched, unmotivated, untraveled, uninspired, and unhealthy. Current events were not on their radar, and learning to cook with “EVOO” or do yoga was not in their top 100 survival skills.  The vast majority had no dentists, doctors, or therapists, and husbands were absent. Their collective ambition was to live through the night without injury and through the week with functioning utilities.

 I had arrived in an “escape room” without any clues. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. Shamefully blind and sugarcoating reality, I had never considered that what I was offering free of charge was of no real help to the women I met.  My “Plan A” on how to live life more abundantly was annoying, subjective, and irrelevant. The many volunteers who had come to join in the mission felt unappreciated and frustrated.

Daily, I pondered why God says over 400 times in Scripture to care for the poor. We will always have them with us, (Mark14:7). Showing mercy to the poor is in effect ministering to Jesus (Matthew 25:35-40). Shutting your eyes to the poor brings judgement (Proverbs 28:27). And the sin of Sodom, which is the most convicting of all: “the women were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and the needy “(Ezekiel16:49).

Refining, resourcing, and revitalization of neighborhoods are popular projects, but we were among women stuck at the survival stage of life. We resolved that our single charge and highest priority was to disciple in Truth all who arrived in earnest to work at the tea company.  

God calls all believers in His family to go to the unreached, and the women in Orange Mound were two miles from our church but a world away. The joy and freedom of living are immeasurably dependent on our relationship to the Lord and His Truth in the Gospel. We had to come alongside them to give Biblical counsel, principles, and encouragement through meeting basic needs most take for granted.

We knew that if they were willing to listen, through the power of the Holy Spirit, He could reverse the pattern of dependency on the tyranny of the urgent, government assistance, and the false narrative that all they would ever be is hopeless. Dependence on God in reverence and obedience would change lives, change families, and change neighborhoods.

Red Zone, Kingdom Community Builders, Neighborhood Christian Center , Orange  Mound Outreach and My Cup of Tea are collectively punctuating the promises of the Lord in our community. Helping hundreds of Orange Mound residents awaken to opportunities available for success are underway.  Discipling a few persons to whole devotion to the Lord, is a priority now.

Yesterday, I went off script in our weekly Bible study of Colossians and teased out contemplative points of faith and salvation.  The ladies were scanning the first chapter of the epistle to answer me.  “The answer is not in this chapter”, I whispered.  The discussion amped up, and those willing to participate offered irrefutable and valuable insights. They were not only correct, but they were feeling the Truth of God’s gift of Jesus personally. They used their own words, and not ours.

In the last week of April, several changed lives are finding new purpose and grasping why they are here, which is to know God and enjoy Him.

The seeds planted for over a decade have taken root and born fruit.  A change for the better has begun, and we have been changed for good. Pilates can wait.

In 1983, then Governor Lamar Alexander announced in his second inaugural address that Tennessee would host an old-fashioned homecoming in 1986 throughout the entire year and across the state. Tennessee’s Homecoming was billed as part hoe-down, part history lesson, and part celebration. Communities were invited to host official events, embark on improvement projects, and preserve their histories for future generations. Former Tennesseans were urged to come back home if not for good, then at least for a visit.

As a teenager, I remember the energy and excitement in my hometown. My grandmother, the county historian was neck deep in the planning and implementation of our community’s celebration – a community that was once home to David Crockett and the birthplace of Southern gospel music. It was such a unifying time in our history that my grandmother a “yellow dog,” FDR Democrat actually had a few nice things to say about our Republican governor. But it was also a time for reflection and gratitude for where we had been, where we were, and where we hoped to go.

Recently, we had a homecoming of our own at My Cup of Tea. We welcomed back Diane to our fold. (No one ever really leaves the fold, but Diane took a break from work at The House, and now she has returned to regular engagement.) We couldn’t be happier.

If you have followed us for a while, either through this blog or via social media, you may remember Diane. We have told Diane's inspiring story and been blessed by her faith and her talents.

Diane told us in an interview several years ago that she always wanted to be a nurse, but she married young and grappled with a drug addiction. After fighting through recovery with God’s help, she shares her story with other women facing similar challenges.

                “I’ve learned to blossom, embrace life, and trust in God,” she told us back then. “I used to never like to smile, and now I smile all the time.”

Diane’s role at My Cup of Tea is the same as when she left - interviewing applicants, teaching our soft skills curriculum, on-boarding new employees, and serving as a gentle, relatable, and empathetic counselor.

                “When they come in broken, I share that I’ve been broken too. Watching the ladies enter and remain a part is like planting flowers. Some are wilted, others are lifeless, but upon pruning, watering, and fertilizing, beauty is revived,” she said.

Just as when any of the ladies leave My Cup of Tea, Diane’s absence has been felt. Even if the reason for leaving is good news, we miss our sisters in the same way a parent misses an adult child who leaves for college or moves to a new city to start a life. You expect, or at least hope, to see them again, but the “loss” is still profound.

In Diane’s case, the reason for leaving wasn’t good news. She had not one, but two brothers who were seriously ill and needed her care. Reminiscent of Ruth in Scripture when Boaz says, “the whole town knows that you are a woman of strength and character,” (Ruth 3:11) no one was surprised that she would take leave to be caretaker for her brothers.

Diane joined My Cup of Tea in 2016, only 3 years after the tiny seeds of this garden were planted. We have a lot of history with Diane. Like any respectable homecoming, we celebrate with reflection and gratitude on all of that history, on the good she is bringing to our lives today, and on all we can accomplish with her and through her in the future.

Welcome home, Diane.

‘The main reason I stay at My Cup of Tea is because I love the sisterhood – encouraging one another, helping one another. I can’t think of a better place than My Cup of Tea to do that.”

                                                                                                             -Diane

In 1977, a Stanford University psychologist studying group dynamics, Albert Bandura, found that groups whose members were confident in the group’s abilities or likelihood of success were in fact more successful.

Duh.

This sounds a lot like what we have all been told by parents, teachers, coaches, and influential adults. “Have some self-confidence and you’ll do great,” or something to that effect. But there is more to it.

Bandura named this observation “collective efficacy.” Collective Efficacy Theory has since been applied across numerous disciplines including education, corporations, and criminal justice.

In a landmark study in 1997 led by Robert Sampson, a Harvard professor and past president of the American Society of Criminology, Sampson studied the impact of collective efficacy on reducing crime. What he found is that neighborhoods with a high crime rate and a low level of cooperation with law enforcement had little to no collective efficacy. Said a different way, neighbors did not believe that working together they could make a difference in their communities. But why?

For collective efficacy to form there must be social cohesion. Social cohesion involves having shared values and norms, social and institutional trust, a sense of belonging, cooperation, and equality and inclusion. When these pillars exist in a group, a business, or a neighborhood, they produce confidence among the group members that together the group can be impactful.

This is what we believe we have accomplished at My Cup of Tea, though the work must be ongoing and nurtured. Perhaps more importantly, collective efficacy is what we desire for Orange Mound, and the community is ripe to achieve it.

Factors that promote social cohesion

There are some basic elements of social cohesion that Orange Mound currently possesses or had in the past that it is capable of realizing in the future. They are:

·         High level of home ownership – Orange Mound has a previous history of home ownership that has waned. Today, home ownership is less than 50%, but still higher than many zip codes in Memphis and there is a legacy to build on. Others believe this too, as evidenced by the new home construction happening.

·         A core of stable, long-term residents – Mary Mitchell, the matriarch of Orange Mound and keeper of its history comes to mind. Among the My Cup of Tea ladies, Cheryl was raised here, left, and moved back. Bretta wasn’t raised in Orange Mound but has lived here for decades. It is true that many exited when crime rose, but there are still deep roots.

·         The presence of extended families – Some have extended families still in the neighborhood, but more high-quality housing options can help nurture that dynamic.

·         Close friendships among neighbors – This is difficult in every community in this age of communicating digitally and avoiding direct contact with other humans. However, our Neighborhood Watch, plans for a farmers’ market, and the intentionality of nonprofits JUICE Orange Mound and Red Zone Ministries to build relationships block by block are critical pieces of the puzzle. Also, the rich history surrounding Melrose High School and the connection people feel to it is another leveraging point.

·         Good schools – The schools within the Orange Mound zip codes are graded D or F on the state’s report card. Primarily this means that the vast majority of students are not reading or doing math on their grade level. But, Arise to Read, volunteers from My Cup of Tea, and others for Second Presbyterian Church are tutoring at Hanley Elementary.

·         People who attend local centers of worship – There are churches in Orange Mound that have been long-time anchors like Beulah Baptist Church, Mt. Moriah Baptist, and Mt. Pisgah CME. It has been our experience that many of the parishioners of these churches live outside of the neighborhood and those churchgoers in the community attend church outside of the 38111 or 38114 zip codes. There is much more work to do.

·         The use of amenities such as parks, recreation centers, and libraries – The Orange Mound Community Center has long been a gathering place for residents, Red Zone Ministries is providing a gathering spot with various opportunities for youth 9-18. There was a time when Orange Mound had one of the best parks in the city complete with an impressive swimming pool.

There are both historic and tangible building blocks in Orange Mound to attain social cohesion again, but it will take time and effort. The good news is that community efficacy at some level is not dependent on achieving the maximum level possible of social cohesion. What does that mean?

The small group that gathers on our porch to plan and implement our Neighborhood Watch can help lower crime on our block. That’s a start. To substantially lower the crime rate across the entire neighborhood requires more “true believers” who will join the movement as homeownership increases, schools get a little better, and they make friends with a few neighbors.

It means a small group of “true believers,” like our family at My Cup of Tea, who have confidence in our abilities, trust in one another, and by the grace of God can make a difference.

Eight times in the Bible we are told to love our neighbor. It is one of the Bible's most repeated commands.  Jesus summarized all of the commandments telling us to love God and love our neighbor (Matthew 22:40) “On these two commands hangs the whole law and all the prophets.” 

 Sadly, it’s difficult to love our neighbors on our corner. Orange Mound neighborliness is sparse, scant, and in short supply.  There is a flow of short-term neighbors in residence among the four houses our property adjoins.  Most of the properties within our view at The House in Orange Mound are rundown, weathered, warty, and dingy. Whitewash has been applied over the mold and peeling paint beneath. There is no landscaping or shade. Our neighbors stick to themselves but welcome multiple visitors who come and go and park on the front yard. We have shared tea and cookies with some, acknowledging that they consider our hospitality suspect and never reciprocated. We don’t know our neighbors. Everyone sticks to their own affairs. It is very hard to love neighbors that don’t want to be known.

Single moms and grandmoms are our workforce at My Cup of Tea, and ten of them live in similar surroundings as I have described just a mile or two away from our corner. They don’t know their neighbors either.  Their unceasing sense of anxiety shaves away any sense of security due to someone renting at the exorbitant rates they pay.  Their roofs leak, their plumbing fails, their floors buckle and sag, their storm doors are cracked but double bolted, and boards replace the missing windowpanes.   

Meanwhile, just to the South of us, and within view, a new day is dawning. Seven new houses are under construction and are for sale. Four of them are the houses on the land we donated and have told you about many times. The other three are across the street and the work of private developers.

The ladies of Orange Mound are my beloved neighbors and in confession of that, my love for them is compelling me to give all I can in treasure, talent, and time to shoe them into the new houses underway. They are collectively and individually unconvinced. Borrowing from the blog posted here two weeks ago, they are inert. None of the ladies in her adult life has had a neighborhood where her children could safely play in the front yard. They’ve missed curtained windows without bars to be opened for a spring breeze. Most have forgone the rich aromas of dinner warmed in an oven that works. Functioning washers and dryers have been a rare luxury.  Growing flowers by the front door in a flower bed and sharing stories and laughter on a porch swing are in their distant memories when they were children in less troubling times.

Shelby County has between 100-200 neighborhoods depending on how you count them. Memphis has as many as forty-eight neighborhoods. Children and old people especially need neighbors. Loving your neighbor becomes symbiotic, for we all have needs, and we all have ways to meet the needs of others.  I chose to work in Orange Mound because I was confident Jesus was already at work within its boundaries. He has brought safety, encouragement, and fellowship to our friends who work at the tea company, and now He has brought new homes within view of our front porch. 

 I am sure knowing the companionship and trust among the ladies and the possibility of living in proximity to one another on this block could be the next step in obeying the command to love our neighbors.  We are committed to being stakeholders, and we are praying and willing in the adventure of establishing a community that will rival and revive the original Orange Mound of a century past. Loving our neighbor compels us to model without My Cup of Tea what we have done within our walls. The original residents of this historic neighborhood knew each other, worked together, and invested in each other with their time, talent, and treasure. I’ve heard the stories of those who grew up here recalling the many moms and dads who kept them in line as children, and who had cookies and lemonade for all in the kitchen after playtime. I have longed for this for them again. This will be a Shalom neighborhood again, and neighborly love will be the cement in the foundations of all of the new homes still to come.