When I gave birth to Kenya, my grandmother told me the story of how she met my grandfather. She told me that she was having a hard time with dating. “I was dealing with a man who stole my brand-new car and left it in San Francisco.” You have to understand, my grandmother was the “Church Lady.” She didn’t curse, drink; hell, she really didn’t do anything, literally. I’d rarely see her leave the house. Had she never shared it with me, I’d never think she would have gotten herself into those type of situations. “I was going to the doctor’s office because I was getting STDs, and I was shaking up.” I was locked in at this point. Here was this “perfect sin-free angel,” telling me about her heathen past. “One day I just got tired. I fell on my knees and cried out to the Lord and I asked Him to send me a husband. You have to be specific, Queen: ask the Lord for what you need.”