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Krissy Mosley Ministries

  • Generations Raising Themselves:

    November 1st, 2018

    I’m more myself now than I ever was.
    When I look in the mirror. I don’t see the sad eyed-girl with low self-esteem. Or the abandonment of my mother. To have a second husband and leave us. That was her choice.

    To leave her kids with their grandmother during their teenage years. (Never -mind my dead father).

    As I bent down to tie my shoe. I let my mind wander back, to that girl, I used to be. On the floor of grandma’s corner house, faced down into the carpet. Hands over my face. I’m barely breathing. Tears falling out the sides.

    My brother and his friends are teasing me for wearing the same winter hat.  Day in, day out I wore that hat. It was starting to be really hot. I still hadn’t put a comb to my hair. Let alone, look at that hot mess sitting on my head. So I did, what I thought most 13-year-olds do when no ones looking. I stuck a wool hat on my head and kept it moving. Until those boys snatched it off.

    Then all that shame, all that matted-down nappy-shame ran over me. My younger cousin walked in the middle of my disgrace. In the middle of their full on the enjoyment of sheer bullying. She covered me with her love. Being all grown, at six years old. She wiped my tears. Pulled my body off the floor.

    I made it. Past their scrutiny, past their foul words. Past the regret of not knowing how to take care of myself.

    We’d become best friends that day. She too needed a mother. I cooked her meals, walked her to school. She introduced me to an old school beautician in our neighborhood. The rest is history
    God is good like that.~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley

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  • 33 Shalom: aka Salome: Seeking & Mastering Peaceful Awakenings’

    August 30th, 2025

    To bask in the light of many moons to share in the warmth of many summers to live and be found alive again glistening somewhere over on Broadway, flip flops, and jazz, raspberry gelato, these are freshwater beaches, filled to the brim like zippers of sun-bursting, finding ourselves the total sum in sync in the belly of sunshine, free in the flow of Mother Nature, Falling in the getty- pradade of sweaty perfume, clean vanilla, and bergamot, a splash of black pepper, For what is joy if it’s not Christmas in July? For what is joy without her upside-down, back-breaking, side-aching laughter, blissful moments, pure and only pure~poet (Krissy)

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  • The History of Blooming & Becoming

    April 5th, 2025

    The story of Krissy’s Mosley  Ministries is “Where Wholeness Begins, Truth Transforms and Love Supersedes”

     It began,

    16 years ago, I sat in the hospital room – wrapped in a faded blue and white gown, drowning in grief and anxiety. A gnawing sense that my life had run out of room for me.

    Numb. Hollow. No smoke. By then, a nurse walked in. She didn’t offer therapy or a scripture. She simply asked, “ What are you doing? I remember replying, through cracked breath, I am becoming a writer. Right there, on the back of my own discharge papers, and a shaking hand. I wrote my first poem. 

    Not because I had a plan, but because I so desperately wanted a comeback in myself. That act of writing lit a match in my darkness. And I’ve been writing, to write myself whole ever since. From that sacred beginning, I learned kindness isn’t passive. It’s a force. A ministry. A movement. 

     I came here. Because the world is always changing. And  I am too. 

    I believe kindness -poetry can be felt chirping off the page. even now, there is this gentle nudge that lets me know, I’m not alone. That’s kindness. 

    I believe in kind words that can grab you from the edge of defeat. Place you in the center of everything, and watch your spirit rise. In the words of Alice Walker, “I think it pisses God off if you walk by The Color Purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”

     That too is kindness.

     I believe in kind -poetry in this kind- way. Lifts voices out of ghost towns and ghettos and prisons and elevates our Human Experience- transforming it From what it has been into visions of hope, growth, and miracles of strength. Lifting us from the invisible margins of merely living and merely dying. 

    We all could use kindness as a way of loving ourselves.

     We could all use human kindness to rebuild extraordinary lives from what has been, to what, human- kindness still must be. 

    Krissy Mosley Ministries’ was never just an organization. It was a promise to the shattered version of me – and to – everyone like me – that we would not be forgotten. 

    That we would rebuild. That we would rise. That poetry would become prayer. That wholeness would become real. This ministry was built from the raw pages of healing from the sound of singing bowls and silent prayers, from stories that the world tried to ignore, but God chose to use. 

    This house is not just mine it’s yours it’s ours. 

    We are living proof that kindness can echo louder than trauma.

    We are what it looks like when wholeness begins. 

    We are where truth transforms. 

    We are where love supersedes.

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  • The Art of Transformation: Miracles in Our Lives

    March 27th, 2025
    Smile, Love & Give ( taking in the moments with laughter )

    Transformation)

    In that of what we are living art transformed, for some of us, the most brutal and teeth -cutting, existence through the fluidity of colorless liquid of miracles, flowing out of our bodies, blood like water, to watch our souls pounding in cadence, oh’ how, we must sing the Lord’s song in a strange land” ~your Poet Krissy Mosley©2020

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  • The Soul of Poetry Reviews & Words From Friends

    March 25th, 2025

    I enjoyed every moment of the Soul Poetry, it was well organized and each session kept wanting me to come back for more. This program gave me a reason to write out my thoughts it was complete therapy for me . My sister thank you so much for unleashing your God-given talent in the world and allowing others to speak their emotions. ~Tasha

    I want to sincerely thank you for inviting me to such a great experience.  Much success in all your undertakings.

    Peace and Blessings~Lydia

    With love and gratitude, this is a poetic witness of Reverend Harry/Butch to the loving support he received upon the loss of his son.
    When no words between us could suffice, Like a soft pulse of the morning, I heard his name. 
    I heard – I felt a beat from my soul beckon, I could not know,
    but to a farewell with new words to exchange. 
    Never suspecting they would be our last. 
    How full my arms came to feel, as we grew together in ways never imagined. 
    How absent they feel, like losing a body’s part
    That last day, with a brevity of challenges, but
    Deep was our laughter, 
    Recalling our adventures, 
    Our cold bodies and
    Our warm bonfires.
    Reflecting on a Good God, and a Loving Jesus.
     
    The kind of love that led me to experience what seemed to be strengthening-from-thousands…
    From ALL OF YOU – EACH ONE OF YOU – FRIENDS AND FAMILY
    who gave a monumental moment to share your love in memory of Edward Deshawn Spencer…
    Thank you for being there, for your prayers, and kind words. For the phone calls and laughter. For text
    messages that smiled. For your support and encouragement. For showing up in your own way. Thank you for
    giving your heart. 

    For The Sake of God’s Love (Rev. Harry)

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  • The Soul of Poetry Is Back Year Two

    February 18th, 2025

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  • New Iteration: Shadow Work

    September 16th, 2024

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  • Finding Myself Again:

    September 16th, 2024

    “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. When I let go of what I have, I receive what I need.” — Lao Tzu

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  • Sun & Freedom

    September 4th, 2024

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  • Praying For The World: Coming Back Better

    August 21st, 2024

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  • Radical Forgiveness

    April 15th, 2024

    In

    the

    vicissitudes

    of life,

    I

    am …

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