Black Women In Crisis: My Story, His Glory

Stories of crisis, inspiration, and motivation from courageous women who refuse to hide
behind the stigma of shame or give in to defeat.

Preorder your copy today. Delivery at the conference, 10/15/22.

The Article/The Book

What is it and how can you be involved?

How we overcome is important to those who come behind us. We owe it to them to share the things we've learned. People need to know they are not alone and that they can not only heal from their circumstances, but they can grow from them as well.

Here you will read the beginning stories of women and learn about their crisis. At the conference, you will have the opportunity to purchase a compilation of their stories and even have a chance to meet some of them in person!

Submit the following for consideration to [email protected]:
2-3 typed pages
Full Story

Note: Each author chosen will be required to sign a consent/release form and will be given five books at the conference and the opportunity to purchase more at cost (includes $1 per copy fee plus the cost of book).

Arethea Martin-Green

Author / Chief Creative Officer
Butterfly Typeface Publishing-Arkansas

My first crisis in life took place before I became a woman; even then, it was for His glory. Like many of us, I did not fully see it then; I was a child, after all. I knew not how to spell the word “abandonment” nevertheless understand its definition. Yet that is what it was. I was a lonely child left many times on my own. Trusting an unseen God that I heard about every Sunday at Friendly Baptist Church, I understood well that God could not be seen with our natural eye, but He heard all our prayers. I would just sit, pray, and sing, “A charge to keep I have a God to glorify, who gave His son my soul to save and fit it for the sky….” I remember sitting in front of my elementary school day after day watching my friends being picked up by their parents or the others who lived close enough to walk home, pass by me in groups. I played it off as though I was waiting for my mom to come. I would even go as far as to lie and say, “She is just running a little late,” knowing that she would not be coming for a few more hours. So as the last student left and the final teacher drove away, I would make my way over to sit in front of the Catholic Church. There I would sit talking to God. “Why doesn’t my mom come for me like the other children’s parents? Why doesn’t she plan for someone else to pick me up each day?” I knew that God would not answer me, but I understood that He heard my prayers and that he would answer silently. Yet, that didn’t stop me from asking him those same questions day after day. Then I would continue to pray and sing, “Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a (child) like me. I once was lost, but now I’m found - was blind, but now I see.” I would sing those two songs every day as I sat there as a lonely, abandoned 8-year-old child, but God! It was doing those times of my life that I learned the power of prayer. I felt His presence in my life, and I knew that God kept me safe each day. Every Christmas, I would ask for a watch because I loved keeping track of time. At 4 pm each day, I would leave that location and continue my two hours (or more) to wait for my mother (sometimes at a different location.) Yes, there were other times I was abandoned, but I was being molded into a praying child and soon became good at talking to my imaginary friend!
Read the full story in BWIC coming July 2022

Arethea Martin-Green is a native of Birmingham, Alabama and the fourth child of five siblings. The married mother of three adult children and five amazing grandchildren is a 1980 graduate of George Washington Carver High School. Arethea attended Alabama State University and is currently attending the University of Phoenix. “By the grace of God, I was re-born spiritually in 1970,” Arethea proudly proclaims, “I thank Him for saving me from the pit of hell. To this day, I still find joy in growing and knowing more of Him.”

Iris M. Williams

Author/Chief Operations Officer
Butterfly Typeface Publishing-Arkansas

I was nearing my 40th birthday, and I was miserable. As I thought about my life, all I saw was a series of bad decisions. My legacy to that point had not served anyone. I desperately wanted to be of value and service. "What is the point in this?" I wondered. By society's standards, I had arrived! I was living in a 250,000 home, drove a luxury car, took two or three vacations a year, was married, and had money in the bank. There wasn't anything I wanted that I couldn't have. So why was I so unhappy? Each day after work, I'd go home and sit and watch life pass me by with no hopes for the future. "What now?" I wondered. People all around me were taking pills and claiming how happy they were, so I decided that I must need pills too. I went to a doctor, told him what I wanted, got them, took them, and waited. Something happens when you take medicine you don't need. I call it adverse effects. I became angry over things that I knew I shouldn't. People around me were also taking prescription medicines and having a glass of wine or two. They claimed to be happy. So, I began to have wine with my prescription pain meds. Something happens when you take medicine you don't need and add alcohol you don't need. I call it adverse effects. I became happy, overly so. Things that should have bothered me – didn't. My story could have ended with either one of these misinformed attempts to be happy. Thank God. A pattern of bad behavior, bad decisions, and worse consequences followed me to North Carolina. There I found my turning point. One Sunday, as I sat in a church service, a sermon about the Woman at the Well resonated with me. I felt it in my soul, and the tears that sprang from my eyes were not from pain or sadness but overwhelming joy. Finally, I understood that my life was salvageable. God could use me – just as I was. And I decided to surrender my life and all decisions to Him. But that just the beginning of the work that lay ahead of me. The Heavens didn't open up and lay a yellow brick road in front of me. In fact, it felt like satan himself decided to give me a guided tour to hell!
Read the full story in BWIC coming July 2022

Iris M. Williams was born in a rural town in Arkansas. Although an avid reader, she had no idea or desire for the world's vastness outside of her small world. Shy and unsure of herself, it would be decades before she would finally step into her purpose as an Independent Publisher, helping others tell their stories. The mother and Nana is a graduate of Little Rock Parkview and Southern New Hampshire University. She enjoys music, reading, and writing. "Tell your story," the multi-published author asserts, "or run the risk of allowing someone else to tell it on your behalf."