SUNDAY THOUGHTS: JESUS ON THE MOVE?

"...The hair of his head was white like wool. as white as snow, and hie eyes were like a blazing fire. His feet were like polished bronze refined in a furnace." ~Revelation 1:14-15

"He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him." ~Isaiah 53:2


Here we go again, with people using sexy Jesus to mask their insecurity, and cloak obvious bigotry. 

I guess they've been waiting 8 years to trot this one out, in favor of some weird Christian nationalism. 

I don't know why people aren't more afraid, when they misrepresent the Lord this way. They take insensitive jabs at the people they hate, but somehow forget that He loves those people, too.

"On my way back to the White House", the meme says. 

From where? Rancho Mirage? 

From making sure Barack, Michelle were settled in safely? 

"On my way back" to do what? 

To make sure someone doesn't accidentally tweet the United States into World War III?

SMH.

 

True colors are shining through with a vengeance these days. 

People are confident that they can now be free and careless with their previously latent bigotry and insensitivity, and they're trying to drag Jesus into it as if he condones their nonsense. 

The fierce defense of the indefensible; loss of reason and discernment, denial, and just plain craziness, only seem to be the order of the day. 

God is neither asleep nor away from the controls. There's a lot of mercy being extended that shouldn't be taken lightly.

Jesus said (the real Jesus, that is, not the Jake Gyllenhaal/ Dave Franco look-a-like in the picture), "...just as you can identify a tree by its fruit, so you can identify people by their actions".

 
I'm just wondering which actions people have witnessed, throughout the presidential campaign, that can be characterized as even remotely Christ-like? 

Which actions indicate that anyone was walking closely with God, representing, or consulting Him on even an intermittent basis? 

I don't remember reading about any negative accusation against Jesus that was true. 

I don't recall reading about Jesus lying incessantly, not thinking before he spoke, mistreating the poor, inciting fear, slandering people, being unfaithful, failing to pay taxes, (Read Matthew 17:24-27), mocking the disabled, going back on his word, or grabbing women inappropriately--and Jesus went to at least one party where there was drinking going on, and two kinds of wine, but he wasn't a drunk.

Someone whose career has been overwhelmingly supported by Black people, shared this illustration online. 

I guess they thought all Christians would rally around it. 

Someone heard the name "Jesus" a couple of times at the inauguration and got happy, as if it hadn't been heard before; 

as if invoking his name would cause amnesia to blanket America, and erase all memory of everything that occurred prior to the inauguration; 

as if people wouldn't remember that once again, the person being sworn in actually lost the popular vote in an election fraught with criminality. 

Just saying or borrowing the name "Jesus" is not a convenient band-aid, magic eraser, or blindfold. Saying and using it, but not embracing the Lord's penchant for caring for his fellow man, is useless. One might as well say "Rumplestiltskin".

The Bible teaches us about a tree and its fruit. Matthew Henry wrote, "...it will not be enough to own him for our Master, only in word and tongue. 

It is necessary to our happiness that we believe in Christ, that we repent of sin, that we live a holy life, that we love one another." 

In the words of Roberta Flack, "Where is the love?"

Jesus (the real one, not the Hugh Jackman look-a-like in the picture) said, “Not everyone who calls out to me, ‘Lord! Lord!’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven".

Frankly, for a long time, there hasn't been much love being shown to a lot of people. 

Women, minority groups, the sick, the poor, and immigrants have been spoken of, and treated abominably. 

Many across the country are anxious and fearful today. 

They heard the empty rhetoric. 

They heard words that, no matter how anyone tried to spin them, have been like weapons; words that in no way were indicative or reminiscent of anything Jesus ever said.

  
Some people think Jesus is their personal flunky, and his love is reserved for those who look like what they've decided he looks like. They convince themselves that he's on their team, condones their divisive behavior and angry rhetoric, and is okay with them twisting his Word to suit their agendas.

 

They are as misguided and wrong as spam-flavored ice cream on a stick.

Perhaps from a visual standpoint, someone actually thought this Caucasian-Christian Bale-looking-Calvin Klein-ad-Jesus, would be an endearing, and encouraging image. 

I mean, the dude in the picture is cute, but really? Did someone really think this was a good idea? 

Are they implying that President Obama actually had the power to chase Jesus away? THE Jesus? Jesus THE Christ?

 
Sure. I get the gist. They've been biting their tongues, and donning fake smiles, and pretending to be tolerant, inclusive, and color-blind for 8 long years. Their bigotry has been simmering, and with the result of the election, it erupted all willy nilly. 

Now they think they can break out all of the crap they've been dying to share, and wear, and shove it into the faces of people who will only look at them with pity, and see them for the deceived souls they obviously are. 

Why does anyone think they won't be called on their BS? 

Why do people ever think they have a right to throw a rock, but cry foul when they're hit with one? 

Who thinks their gloating won't get a response?

  

(By the way. That red, white and blue "revolutionary" Gucci, British Tribute coat someone wore, conjuring images of The Nutcracker crossing the Delaware, was inspired by France, covered with cat-faced buttons, and was made in Italy. 

So much for "America First", but I digress.)

They didn't like Obama. 

They couldn't stomach the country being led by him. He didn't look like them. 

He was a supposed foreigner. 

He couldn't have been a Christian. 

He was the uppity Negro who didn't know his place. The narrative of their upbringing said he didn't have a right to hold the highest office in the land. 

Now, they're trying to undo everything he accomplished without their help, forgetting that much of it helped them.

Since we're being Christian all of a sudden, Barack Obama is the husband of one wife. 

His children respect him.

His presidency was scandal-free. 

So-called Christians have relentlessly questioned his religion, scholarship, ancestry, sexual orientation, and citizenship, and even compared his family to apes, but he never lost his cool. 

His terms are over, and they're still poking at him. Why?

Now that a German descendant is in the Oval Office, the notion is that we can all breathe a sigh of relief, feel like true Americans again, and reinstall God, as if he's been on hiatus. 

The notion is that we can dust off, and wave proudly our paintings, drawings, calendars, bookmarks, and church fans, that depict a man who bears a striking resemblance to Bradley Cooper, Adrien Brody, James Franco, Jonathan Rhys Myers, and Downton Abbey's Dan Stevens, all rolled into one. 

That image makes some people feel better, unfortunately, that's all it is--an image--the display of which, in no way indicates an actual relationship with, or understanding of God.

News flash: The next time Jesus comes back, he won't be toting old, beaten up luggage, and tiptoeing through a field of flowers like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  He won't be starting his comeback tour at the White House, but at the church house.

"For the coming of the Son of Man will be like lightning striking in the east and flashing far into the west." ~Matthew 24:27

The representation of Jesus as a buff, tall, lean, chiseled, white guy, with hair right out of an Herbal Essence commercial, is nothing new. 

I'm a Black woman in America. I've seen artistic representations of Jesus all my life, and the first ones, on the kitchen or living room walls of every elderly relative, were blonde, blue-eyed Fabio types. 

The first mural I ever saw depicting Jesus, was on the wall in the basement of my childhood church and Jesus, being baptized by a brunette John the Baptist, was also a brunette-- and there was a big white bird perched on top of his head. 

I was almost an adult before I ever saw a representation that looked like me, or anyone in my family, or that was even remotely close to the Bible's brief description of him. I have never, however, seen an image portraying him as some exiled pedestrian, who's on the comeback trail...and where is this field he's walking through? The side of the road along I-95 North? 

Where is he coming from? 

King's Dominion? 

What's in the luggage? 

His power suit? 

The Ten Commandments? 

The new president's tax returns?

My first response to the illustration was laughter. Somebody really thinks this dude is Jesus! 

Why is the Savior of the World carrying his own luggage? Why is he walking? 

Seems to me, if he was "on his way back to the White House" Jesus would have been in one of the luxury vehicles that transported the newest occupants of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. 

Is Jesus (the real one, not the Casey Affleck-looking guy in the picture) just an incidental, random someone that's only trotted out for Kodak moments and speeches? 

The implication is that God has been eerily and obviously absent from the White House. 

I'm not sure what that's based on, other than racism, bigotry, mis-education, and melanin percentages.

One of the first big words I ever learned was "omnipresent". 

If one believes in God at all, one believes that he is just that--all enveloping; everywhere at the same time. 

So how is it that anyone thinks he wasn't in the White House? 

Since when does God need our permission to occupy and oversee any place? The Earth is HIS!

Where do we get off thinking we can direct him, send him, or exclude him from one place or another? 

I don't know about anyone else's Bible, but mine includes Psalm 139:7-10: 

"Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me..."

 

So...exactly where do the people, who are so proud to share this illustration through social media, think Jesus has been? In hiding? On retreat? In exile? On vacation? In some undisclosed location planning post-Obama strategy?

Sometimes, the joke isn't funny. It simply exposes utter ignorance. 

I'm glad God is already at the White House, and in spite of who's occupying the seat of power, he in no way eclipses the One who sits high, and looks low. 

One of the promises of God is that he would be with us always. 

I'm so sorry some people think he left them for eight long years. Perhaps they were the ones who left him, while they burned with hatred over the fact that He allowed a brilliant, impressive Black man to be the leader of the Free World. 

Perhaps that's why they hoped and prayed he'd fail, and did everything they could to discredit him. He flew in the face of their narrative.

He didn't reflect their idea or image of God.

How are they oblivious to the fact that, in Jesus' day, people like them did the exact same thing to him.

I don't know what God some people serve, or what Bible they're reading, (or editing) but God is no respecter of persons. 

This construct called "race" has so many people bound and confused, that they've draped God himself in their skin color, and seek to hijack him in order to oppress others, and elevate themselves. 

They can't fathom that God's only begotten Son did not, and could not have looked like them, given his geographical location, while on Earth, but they need him to. 

It boosts their egos. 

It supports the lie that they're superior to others, and who is more superior a man than Jesus?

 
Is his great, unconditional love not enough? 

Isn't there enough of God's love and stuff to go around? 

Does "whosoever" still mean any and everyone, no matter what their nationality?
I guess not. 

We'd better all hope Jesus IS in the White House--and not for the reasons some people want. 

If God was not omnipotent and omnipresent--and intelligent--we'd be screwed.

SUNDAY THOUGHTS: FIFTY

Today, my baby sister celebrates her 50th birthday. 

The little girl whose hand I had to hold, and make sure she got safely to and from school, is 50. 

She's finally caught up, it seems. 

My little sister will always be my little sister to me because I'm 6 years and 2 months older, and because...well...compared to me, she's little..lol...

but she's a giant of a phenomenal woman.

There had been many false alarms about when she would greet the world. 

When 1966 ended, in spite of several speedy car trips throughout December, from South East DC to Bethesda, she waited until the New Year. 

Fresh start. 

I remember when my mother brought her home from the hospital. 

She was a plump, pretty, wide-eyed, chocolate baby, and my big sister Robyn and I fawned over her, and treated her like a doll. 

We would pose pictures with her in her crib, and hold long balloons over her head, as if she were a princess. 

We were cheesing, but the look on her face in the photos is hilarious. It was as if she was saying, "Who are these weirdos?" 

She had to wear leg braces for a while, and it was fascinating to watch her moving about in her crib, even as both legs were bound. 

She would bang those metal braces against the mattress. She miraculously learned how to get out of them. 

She wanted out. 

As she grew she was fragile, pigeon-toed, a little goofy and nerdy (the little eyeglasses didn't help the look, but she was an avid reader), and deathly afraid of dogs, frogs, and bugs--any kind of bug. 

(She still is--afraid of dogs, that is. 

We still laugh about the dog we chased away from sniffing her and licking her face, as she convincingly played dead on Wilmington Street.) 

She was so little, and we felt it was our job to protect her. There was no seat belt in the back seat of the car, so my big sister and I would hold hands across her lap to keep her securely in her middle seat. 

She wasn't always feeling that set up. It was restricting. Why did she always have to sit in the middle? Why couldn't she have a window seat? 

She wasn't going to be our gopher, either. She got hip quickly. If you wanted something and you were disabled, okay, but able-bodied, non-parental people? Go get it yourself.

She shunned trouble. The thought of being in trouble was crippling, and she often had to be reassured that what she'd done or said, wasn't a big deal after all. 

I remember when she seriously considered being a nun. Her admiration for Sister Diane Marie at St. Thomas More Catholic School was deserving, but the aspiration to follow in her footsteps, didn't last. 

It too, was restricting. 

She was a Barbizon model, high school class leader, and a radio announcer, and of the three of us, the best dancer. 

Before the Huxtables had family meetings, she was calling them, and my parents humored her so she could air her grievances. 

She always had a voice; knew her rights, and had no problem speaking up. Sometimes, we were afraid for her. She said things we wouldn't have dared say. Being seen, but not heard was not her thing. 

Fairness mattered. There would be no injustice. "This is my life!" she said dramatically one day. 

It would have been funny if it hadn't been true. 

She was arguing for the right to collaborate with someone who was leading her toward what would eventually be her vocation.

My baby sister's always been ambitious, a free thinker, daring, talented, and witty. 

She has always understood the necessity of having fun, the importance of laughter, and was defiant in her pursuit of happiness and joy.

As with any younger sibling's relationship with parents, older siblings notice the relaxing of rules, the abandonment of certain forms of discipline, the encouragement to speak freely, the enlightenment, the loosening of the apron strings. What remained, however, was the demand that a good education be a priority.

Get that piece of paper. 

Try as many things as you can. 

Know what's going on in the world. 

Be a leader, not a follower. 

Think about someone other than yourself. 

Be able to take care of yourself. 

Know who you are. 

Don't apologize for, condone, minimize or accept abuse of any kind. Serve. 

Give back. 

Teach. 

Cultivate your gifts. 

See the world. 

Get out of your comfort zone. 

Be careful, but don't be afraid. 

Respect boundaries that others set, but don't limit yourself.

People (even those who share our DNA) have tried relentlessly and failed to pit us against each other; to make comparisons, to point out obvious differences as if we don't see them, and sow discord and insecurity. We know that those kinds of attempts can only succeed with our participation and consent. We're not giving it. We shared a sainted mother who instilled discernment; taught us how to celebrate others, appreciate differences, harness the strength of harmony, agree to disagree, and denounce unnecessary competition.

My little sister has made us very proud, and is still making us so. She's an awesome, attentive, fierce mother, educator, entertainer, mentor, writer, and recording artist. Her stamina is dizzying. 

Her determination and work ethic is admirable. 

She's loves hard, and is fearless. 

Things haven't always been easy, (One learns that being nice, gracious or loving to others doesn't always guarantee that niceness, graciousness, or love will be shown in return. One learns that proficiency and a willingness to help doesn't always guarantee acceptance, promotion or support.), but she sure as heck doesn't look like what she's been through. 

For that--for going through the fire and not reeking of smoke, and for daring to recognize her own worth; for daring to love and celebrate herself, I salute her today.

I hope she embraces 50 for the beautiful milestone it is--as well as the benefits of AARP membership. 

Those discounts are no joke.

RESPECT

Following the weekend of the inauguration, the Women's March, and a powerful gathering of women organized by one of my high school classmates, some of the most poignant words I heard were those of a man:
 
"...Gotdangit, I'm tired...I'm tired of women who are being celebrated without acknowledging the incredible durability, genius, and creativity of what Black women have done...transformative women...their commitment to our people, their commitment to our world, their humanitarian and entrepreneurial efforts...I'm tired of the "bitch", "ho", "skeezer", "slut", "hoodrat", "chickenhead"...I'm tired of the demonization of women...I understand that you say that's the word you use because you choose to do it--and don't get it twisted, men in my generation used the same words, but we had the good enough sense not to go in public and celebrate our rhetorical pathology by demonizing the very women whose wombs we have taken our life. 
Start being respectful to Black women." 
~Michael Eric Dyson

TODAY

So, I'm enjoying National Popcorn Day. It's one consolation today, because I admit, I've been feeling some kind of way. I'm not sad, just, I don't know, okay...maybe I am a little sad. I have the best popcorn in America, I think--Chicago's Garrett's. It arrived yesterday and I broke out the ziploc bag. I will not allow it to get stale. That would make me sadder....lol... I think I've had enough, though. 
I wonder if all over America people are self-medicating with their favorites, too. 

I haven't had enough of another of Chicago's favorites--the Obama Family. They've made me so proud. Today's their last day as residents of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

I'm keenly aware today, that a man who represented extremely well, in whom we all could take considerable pride (if we wanted to) will no longer be the leader of the free world. I tell you it's like being inside a luxury vehicle and being told you have to ride the rest of the way on a rusty tricycle. That's the way it seems. After 8 years of knowing that people in high places were determined to see him fail--and said as much--I'm glad that he and his beautiful family won't have to deal with the madness any longer. In the face of disrespect, innuendo, lies, attacks, lack of cooperation, divisiveness, and childishness, a lesser man would have snapped long ago. He never did. 

Voters said they wanted something "different". Well, we've surely gotten "different". I'm trying to be my usually optimistic self. After all, I'm a Black woman in America who was born and raised by two Black parents who hail from the deep South, whose parents were also from the deep South. There's just not a whole lot that surprises or rattles me when it comes to politics in America. My 90 year old father said he never thought he would ever see a Black family in the White House. He didn't always agree with the President, but he was a faithful supporter. With Brother Barack, it seemed we'd turned a corner or a page in America. It's now clear that we weren't all reading the same book.

I watch C-Span and see and hear people who are as qualified as a Q-tip to oversee the agencies and organizations they've been tapped for, and it makes me shake my head. I see leaders who don't seem to believe the words that are coming out of their own mouths; they don't seem to have the guts to stand up for what is prudent. They seem to be bought. Their hands seem to be tied. It's like someone has something on them that prevents them from thinking independently and representing the people who voted for them. It seems that the notion of service is lost on many of them. There is no empathy. No compassion, just selfishness and greed. Whatever happened to putting our best foot forward? I listen to people try to justify lies, minimize untenable words and behavior, and spin stuff that makes absolutely no sense. I discern hate. I know it's born out of ignorance and fear. It's nothing new. 

Just like I did as a college student when Mr. Reagan was elected, (and frightened people were counting the letters in his name, wondering if he was the anti-Christ) I'm trying to wrap my mind around current events, and adjust. Oh, I ain't scared Reverend Purlie, but I'm concerned. Yeah. I was hoping there was some way the Obamas could stay. It has been wonderful to have such classy, mature, caring, intelligent representation.

I read my favorite Bible verses: 

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

I read Psalm 75:5-7. "Do not lift up your horn on high, do not speak with insolent pride. For not from the east, nor from the west, or from the desert comes exaltation, but God is the Judge; He puts down one and exalts another..." Then I read Daniel 2:21."It is He who changes the times and the epochs; He removes kings and establishes kings; He gives wisdom to wise men, and knowledge to men of understanding". 

I thought, "God did YOU do this? A'ight then. I know your work. I'm cool." I still grabbed another handful of popcorn. 

It occurred to me that my favorite book in the world is filled with underdogs, scoundrels, egomaniacs, and unlikely, unqualified, imperfect, victors, of whom any thinking person should be skeptical. God--the superstar of wisdom and justice,  chose and used them all. Maybe he's doing it again, and in 4 years we'll all laugh and say, "Oh! Okay Lord. I see what you were doing there!"

#tryingtothinkpositively

TO VIEW OR NOT TO VIEW

I don't know how many times I've received posts and messages about how I should use my television on inauguration day. Some say turn it off. Some say watch the History channel of Food Network. Some say even if I don't watch, just don't tune into mainstream media. I immediately went to snopes.com. http://www.snopes.com/change-channel-on-inauguration/

We cannot afford to be misinformed--not yesterday, today, and definitely not tomorrow. We've got to stop alarming one another. STOP clogging inboxes, mailboxes and message centers with incorrect, useless, ineffective information. We're ALL on the internet here. Just because someone you respect, trust, love, or like posted it, doesn't make the information true. Use your own brain and hands. Take a second and check for yourself. Don't just blindly share stuff. When you get it, use your search engine FIRST. 
"Better safe than sorry" is a nice mantra, but many urban legends, rumors, and flat-out lies would die if we'd stop reviving them.

THURSDAY THOUGHTS: TASTES

My littlest nephew announced yesterday that he was a picky eater--"very picky" he emphasized. 

I told him I knew that already. 

I reminded him of the time I made a banana, strawberry and kale smoothie. He tasted the banana immediately. "Nessa! I thought you knew I don't like bananas!" 

I was shocked. What kid, other than a younger me, hated bananas?  

"It's okay. You like what you like.",

I told him.

 

There would be no battle of wills; no "clean your plate" lectures, or punishment for being human and having a preference. 

He wanted to reassure me that I was perfectly within my rights to like what I liked, too, and I shouldn't be offended if our tastes differed. "What do you like, Nessa? I know! You like popcorn! I do, too!" 

I'm so glad he's continuing the family tradition.

I suggested we make a list of his favorites. I wanted to know what he really enjoyed other than bacon, french fries, and pepperoni pizza. 

I didn't want to waste time offering him things he wouldn't eat.

I'd picked him up early from school. He was coughing, and not feeling too well. Just like any old-schooler, I thought he needed soup, ginger ale, and some kind of elixir with "tussin" in its name. 

I figured I'd better ask first if he even liked chicken noodle soup. When he said "yes", I was probably more excited than I should have been. 

I opened a can of my favorite, Progresso and heated it up. 

(Had it been for me, I would have added garlic, peppers and onions, celery, butter, black pepper, and a few tablespoons of evaporated milk. Once it came to a rolling boil, I'd toss in some broccoli florets.)

 

I placed the bowl in front of him. He tasted it,and wasn't feeling it at all. He very politely thanked me for my effort. 

"But Progresso is the bomb! It tastes just like the chicken noodle soup at J. Alexander's!", I protested. 

He didn't care. 

He told me he would try to eat the broth, but to him, Progresso wasn't as good as Mario Brothers. 

I thought he was referring to some restaurant, or a gourmet soup his parents picked up at a health food store, until I realized he was talking about Super Mario Brothers, of television and video gaming fame. The Campbell's brand, I've learned, has a line of "healthy kids" condensed soups, based on the popular characters.

 

He finished the broth, and told me he'd had enough.

Times really have changed. 

I wish I would have told any adult that I didn't want, or like what was on the plate in front of me. It just didn't happen. 

However, I also remember sitting for hours at the kitchen table, crying, and staring hatefully at oatmeal until it became a Frisbee, and that wasn't cool. I would not be traumatizing my nephew.

I remember vowing that when I grew up, I'd never eat oatmeal again.

I'm pretty sure I possess the world record for the most oatmeal flushed down a toilet, or wrapped in gobs of napkins, and stuffed into a trash can. My intense hatred of it, cabbage, bananas, lamb, peanut butter, pineapple, strawberries, and yogurt only subsided when I became an adult, and realized the benefits outweighed the taste, and the taste wasn't so bad. I could stomach them after all!

My nephew hasn't embraced the "It's good for me, so I'll eat it" philosophy yet, and I totally understand not wanting to eat something I simply don't like. He knows what he favors--and the faces he makes after agreeing to at least try a thing, are hilarious.

I knew he wouldn't want any of the butter beans, rice, gravy and chicken breast I'd prepared for my Dad, so we stopped at McDonald's on the way home from his school. I'd destroyed his chicken nuggets by putting them in the microwave once before, (and they weren't even in there long) so I couldn't blame him for being cautious. 

The stop at McDonald's wasn't a total loss. He loves the strawberry and mango smoothies and of course, the fries. (I still think there's something mystical about those fries that makes all kids love them.) Sipping on the smoothie was actually soothing his cough. 

As he sipped, he wasted no time reminding me about the danger a microwave is to a chicken nugget. I was sure he'd be hungry later, so I needed to know what I could prepare that he would actually eat. I was on the verge of phoning Domino's.

"Let's make that list. I want a list. What else do you like", I asked. 

He rattled off chicken tenders ("Don't microwave them, either. It will ruin them, and make them hard to eat. You'll have to look for the smushy part.", he said), 

chocolate chip cookies (soft or hard), 

Lay's potato chips, 

Doritos (the ones in the blue bag), and chocolate ice cream. 

I told him he had a lot of snack foods on the list. 

He continued with rice, Coca Cola, Pepsi, ginger ale, Sprite, root beer, Hi C, fruit punch flavored Capri Sun, lemonade (We mimicked the Geico commercial featuring Ice-T for a while. He loves that ad.), peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Popeye's chicken, red beans and rice, black-eyed peas, and black beans.

I asked if there was anything else. "Oh. Senzu beans. I like Senzu beans." 

"Senzu beans? How do you spell that?" 

I was excited again. "He likes something!" 

I was going to make sure I kept some Senzu beans on hand just in case he stopped by. 

I searched to see what Senzu beans were, since he told me they were a "healing bean". 

He said it with so much authority. I was impressed that a nine year-old was in tune to what foods were "healing", considering how worried I was when he hadn't mentioned food food for the list.

My google search showed me what senzu beans were--"the magical beans that save lives". 

I should have known Dragon Ball Z was involved. 

My nephew has been extremely faithful to animated characters all of his young life. 

He started with Thomas the Tank Engine and ALL of his friends, and then graduated to Sonic the Hedgehog, and all of his friends. 

(On a road trip with his mom, he saw a Sonic sign, and insisted my sister find the restaurant. The detour took them a long way off I-95, but she said it was worth it to see the joy on his face.)

These days, it's all about Goku, and it's affecting his diet in a good way. 

Those health-restoring senzus bear a striking resemblance to lima beans.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: PARTICIPATION--SHE'S "NOT GOING"

Hmmm.

This is one case where I could agree and say without reservation "It's a GIG"--and I don't even LIKE that word. 

My song would have made it crystal clear whose side I was on--even if I had to pen a new one. 

What a lost opportunity for someone to have had a hot microphone in hand. 

Imagine what they could have said or sung. 

We say this is the land of the free, but it seems to be the land of "You'd better do what I say, or you'll never work in this country again."

Performing at the inauguration is not a declaration of undying love or allegiance to the President-elect unless, of course, one is enamored and in lockstep. It's participation in an historical event. 

Participation wouldn't say that I'm deliriously happy about the results of the election. It says I'm an American citizen, who may not be thrilled about the transition, but respect it just as I did 8 years ago. 

I could sing my song, hope it educates, moves, or encourages someone to think, and then put the mike back on the stand, roll out, and go home. 

Why are we holding every performer’s feet to the fire? 

Why are we so angry with the ones who have agreed to perform?
Does participation really make a person a sellout or indicate that they can be bought? 

I'm so tired of bullies of every ilk. Where DO we go to meet to find out what we're all supposed to think? Where is this meeting place where our feelings and opinions are distributed? 

Now I wonder, are the people who are happy that performers are changing their minds, and declining the invitation to perform going to invite them to THEIR events--and compensate them handsomely for their allegiance? Probably not.

People of various professions go to work every day with others whose affiliations, beliefs, lifestyles, opinions, and views are diametrically opposed to their own, but no one expects them to refuse to do, or quit THEIR jobs, boycott, or riot. NO ONE is going to volunteer to assume their financial responsibilities if they DO decide to bend to the whims of bullies, or the principles of others. 

We don't care if our plumbers, electricians, mechanics, accountants, etc. are blue or red—and we don't ask. We just want the work done.

Let me be clear. There are some things that are neither worth one's time nor effort. 

The creative person, however is always caught in a quagmire. 

Where, and in what circumstance does one take and share one's gift? 

The question always looms, "How much is he or she being paid to do THAT?" 

The creative person, whose efforts are often not even viewed as a profession, is ALWAYS expected to make a sacrifice, or suffer being threatened or blackballed. 

That's kind of oppressive and unfair, I think. It says that creative types are not free people; they don't have a right to make decisions for themselves. Their professional and financial futures are always on the line if they don't align with one side or another. 

(We saw how people were appalled that Meryl Streep dared to expound on anything other than acting, as if she's shallow and supposed to stay in an idiot box.) 

People tend to think they own you, and can make or break you. It proves they don't understand why you do what you do, nor do they understand that audiences vary. 

Everyone YOU may have kicked to the curb, has been happily embraced by someone else.

Some people know how to separate a job from an employer, an artist from their art, and politics from a payday. Those who protest your LUCRATIVE choices the most, are usually the people who always want something for nothing, DON'T pay your bills, DON'T offer alternatives, DON'T make purchases (they prefer to burn CD's, watch Youtube, and expect comp tickets to concerts), and WON'T match the dollar amount you are to be paid if you DO that thing they don't want you to do. 

Those who scream "foul" the loudest about the work you choose to do, will be the ones wondering why a GoFundMe account is needed to bury you. 

SO...If it is not tantamount to selling your very soul, go get that coin, and use it for something worthwhile. Yeah, I said it. 

Somebody is ALWAYS going to have something to say about what you do, but they don't know or care if you're one can of soup away from hunger, or one late payment away from homelessness. While they're sitting around celebrating your capitulation, they don't know whether you're in the red or black.

Be yourself, do your job, do it well, maintain your integrity, and then, since they gave it to you anyway, utilize that platform to the hilt. People know who they're getting when they call on you--or they SHOULD. If you don't deliver the loyalty they demand; if you're not easily manipulated, they'll know NEXT time not to call you.

I guess I'm getting old...lol... 

SOOOO many valuable personal and working relationships, and opportunities to positively impact others; share different points of view, share CHRIST even, and build bridges are forfeited because of a need or demand to please people who are contributing ZERO to your life. 

If I'm asking you to give up something, I should be prepared to offer an alternative. I should guarantee what I'm expecting you to abandon--or shut up.

SUNDAY THOUGHTS: HOPE

“With patient and firm determination, we will press on until every valley of despair is exalted to new peaks of hope; until every mountain of pride and irrationality is made low by the leveling process of humility and compassion; until the rough places of injustice are transformed into a smooth plane of equality of opportunity; and until the crooked places of prejudice are transformed by the straightening process of bright-eyed wisdom.” ~The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it, and to work for it, and to fight for it. Hope is the belief that destiny will not be written for us, but by us--by the men and women who are not content to settle for the world as it is; who have the courage to remake the world as it should be.” 
~President Barack H. Obama