'Be anxious for nothing..." ~Philippians 4:6

Monday, January 27, 2020

MONDAY THOUGHTS: POINT A to POINT B








The Capital Jazz SuperCruise is a wrap. 
It was fun, insightful, healing, and enjoyable.

 
I’m home. 
I kept my promise to myself to wheel my suitcase to the washing machine as soon as I entered. Now everything is washed, folded, and hung. 

I decided I’d rest. 

I purposely kept the TV tuned to anything that would make me laugh. 
After a day, I decided to abandon Antenna TV and find out what was going on in HD. The bad news made me consider how something as simple as traveling from point A to point B—making it home—really isn’t simple or promised at all. 
Gratitude gripped me. 

I didn’t ask the Lyft drivers, the bus drivers, the Southwest Airlines’ pilots, co-pilots, or the Royal Caribbean ship’s captain who they were, let alone how they were; I didn’t assess their mental, physical, spiritual, educational, professional, or emotional fitness. I didn’t request the most recent safety, structural, or mechanical reports of either mode of transportation. I just happily hopped inside, placed my well-being in the hands of strangers, and rode at speeds out of my control. 
I was oblivious to the science of it all, but (courtesy of my favorite window seats) I spent my riding time marveling at the art in everything from infrastructure, to trees, to clouds, to the ocean. (How do you not know you’ve been to Puerto Rico while you slept? 
How do you not know the storm was so bad you’re not in Antigua, but St. Maarten?) 
I put my trust in strangers, and their ability to operate machines with precision; to make decisions concerning my safety and theirs. Their expertise and integrity played an integral part in me getting home again. I did say “Thank You”, but I still don’t know who they are. 

It occurred to me that leaving home and returning safely is a very, very, very big deal; that potential danger is everywhere, but every time it skips you, is a reason to celebrate. 
You make plans, but there really are no guarantees, so it stands to reason that giving thanks knows no limits, and acknowledging the grace you’ve been shown, is always in order.

Saturday, January 4, 2020

FORWARD MARCH


SATURDAY THOUGHTS: MAKING WORK


None of the 5000+ people assembled, said anything about being hungry--not one word. 
They probably would have happily continued listening to Jesus speak, had the apostles not SUGGESTED they needed food. 
(Who's in YOUR ear telling you what you want, need or ought to do, have, or know? 
But I digress...) 

Now, the Bible doesn't say that it was ALL of the apostles advocating for an end to hunger. 
Were there ringleaders who roped the others into a scheme to get Jesus to send the people away? 
Jesus wasn't stupid. He knew their hearts and motives. They didn't give a kitty about whether those people ate or not. They thought they could distract Jesus from the principal thing. He was teaching, and the people were listening, not complaining how long-winded he was, or lamenting that they'd missed a meal. 
The apostles--the self-centered ones anyway--were trying to play on Jesus' compassionate side. Dummies. 

So... Jesus said, 
 "Oh. For real? They're hungry? Well then, YOU feed them." Then they were like, "Wait?...Ummm...Whaaat?...No...My bad...We were thinking they could just go to Popeye's or the 7-Eleven!" 

Selfish people will always try to disrupt the feast you're enjoying.

The apostles acted without a plan, underestimated Jesus' response, were being manipulative, and sought to undermine the spiritual meal the people were receiving. 
Their scheme failed. 
They ended up making work for themselves--and others--a LOT of work. 
Fortunately, Jesus didn't just leave them hanging to figure out how they were going to get it done. 
They didn't have to go into their own pockets, fire up the barbecue or run to the Safeway. He told them what to do (and they STILL hesitated) and a miracle came out of it.

The jokers could have been resting the whole time, though. 


You can't run everything or everyone. Don't try. You'll make work for yourself. Don't sit back and think you know what's happening in any situation unless you have first hand experience. 
Don't ever think you know what someone else is going to do, just because you think you have their ear. 
Don't underestimate whether a competent person has control of a situation. It will backfire, and they just might put YOU to work, or you'll end up with more on your plate than you bargained for. 
Don't create a dilemma or look for fault where none exists. 
Don't hail yourself as an authority on a thing or situation you haven't actually assessed. 
Don't start something you don't have the willingness or capacity to finish. 
Don't assume something won't work unless your hand is in it. You'll miss something wonderful THERE, that you could have experienced, because you were so obsessed with what was going on HERE. 
You'll expend time, energy, resources, and effort you could have used for something else. If you want to run the show, there's a whole lot more to it than merely standing on the stage, hearing your name called first, or hobnobbing with the stars.

When the Lord tells you to take a break, do it. When God is trying to lighten your load, let him. 
When someone else has a thing running smoothly, leave it alone.

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: POETRY PROMPT---POLITICS



One is woefully two-faced
And in denial
Forever trying to hide the dysfunction 
In which she exists
Expecting others to go along with her delusion
Lamenting the good life she’s missed

One is an opportunistic hustler
Self-absorbed, greedy, and full of envy
Forever launching herself in baseless competition
With others who are what she hopes to be

One is an insecure coward
Trying to fit in, but not welcomed
Neither trusted, nor liked by the others
He could find a friend,
If he would only BE one

They wanted nothing to do with each other
But they found a common enemy
In one who spent years serving
Despite their complacency

But they sought to demonize; malign
To assuage their negligence
To join forces without a cause
While feigning innocence
Watching them attempt 
To present a united front, is laughable
They’d just as soon cut each other’s throats  
Their collusion is not affable

Now their hastily established clique is unraveling
Nothing in their collective arsenal had any power
Their ammunition was, itself, full of holes
And their partnership has soured

Their enemy escaped their snares
Withstood their attacks
Survived their schemes
Now, they don’t know what to do
Their enemy has won, it seems

They set a place at their table; 
said “Come. Take a seat."
But their enemy won’t sit with fools,
Commune with thieves,
Align with devils
Or adhere to their shady rules

They’re anxiously waiting
Like all do when their plots fail
To face dire consequences
As their enemy prevails;
And exposes them for
The pitiful lot they are
They grabbed for spoils before victory
Before they won the war
They’d been waiting like vultures
Were so sure they’d defeat
Their enemy, however, did not die
Did not choose to retreat
Did not fall
Did not surrender
Did not quit, or give in
Their enemy is stronger now 
Than she has ever been

Now,
One is backpedaling, and
Struggling to hide her shame
Hesitating to stand on the side of right
She’ll never be trusted again

One is trying to intimidate;
Every word is condescending
He’ll never be respected again
His spine requires mending

One is so frustrated
It’s oozing from her pores
She thinks she should have won the lot
What’s mine, what’s theirs, and yours
She’ll reap the greatest trouble
She orchestrated it all
The case against an innocent
She hoped would trip and fall

One is already dispensable;
His sweaty brow betrays
How useless he now is to them
How unstable his ways

One sees she misaligned herself
Could have ended it all
With one word; 
But greed deafened her
When Justice came to call

One is going to explode
From her sheer bitterness
She has so betrayed and lied
And caused such a great mess

None can look into the eyes
Of their shared enemy
Cowards—all  
Guilt ridden, sick, and full of misery
They threw rock after caustic rock
And then, their hands they hid
They tried to destroy the wrong one
They knew not what they did









VRWc2020

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: THRIVE


Every now and then you have to remind people who your God is. They may have forgotten, but you haven't. 
He is your source; everything belongs to Him, and if people aren't careful, He will make it so that they will have to help you, and they'll have no choice in the matter!

It's the desire of certain imps in your life that you suffer. Further, their continued hope in their failed schemes, makes them think you're suffering. 
Maybe you should invite them to take a good, long look around; reevaluate situations--yours and their own. 
Who's truly suffering? You or them
Who's stressed and stretched? 
Who's reporting every day to jobs they hate? 
Whose thoughtlessness and carelessness has added to their responsibilities? 
Who is trying to keep up with the Joneses? 
Who's got creditors calling? 
Who is painting a facade when, in reality, life and the people in it are dysfunctional? 
Who's sick and popping pills, using controlled substances or downing alcohol as a comfort and not a beverage?

You're fine. You're not suffering at all--in spite of their efforts; in spite of what they tried and continue to try to deny you, or take from you. 
As a matter of fact, if their self-absorption, greed, and exhaustion weren't clouding their judgment, they'd see how the things they meant for evil have resulted in nothing but goodness for others
You have been served, educated, and sustained by the lessons they've taught
You're walking through the valley, and when you emerge, you'll prosper even more.
 
When will people, who allow evil to use them, realize that the enemy of their souls is loyal to no one
While they're wearing themselves out gossiping about and keeping tabs on you, and infuriated that they couldn't move, harm, or demonize you, you will be getting back everything the enemy has stolen, and they'll lose--in one way or another--everything they attempted to withhold from you--and more

God isn't playing. 
I don't know why anyone thinks they can mess with you and ever get away with it, and not see the manifestation of their nonsense in their own lives.
One day, people will wake up and connect the chaos in their lives with the abominable way they have treated others; they'll realize that sowing and reaping are not merely financial principles, and that jealousy and strife are premature aging, creativity stealing, and sickening agents. 
They'll see the fruit born out of the lies they've told, believed, and spread. 
They'll stop thinking their superficial relationships are real, lasting, supportive, loving ones; they'll stop shooting themselves in the foot and waiting for others to scream "Ouch!"
They'll realize they are digging holes for themselves by relentlessly trying to tear others down.
 
Perhaps a footstool won't know it is one until you put your foot on it. Maybe then it will stop thinking it's controlling anything concerning you.

Sometimes I wonder whose life people are referencing when they're busy trying to convince you that their circumstances are so much better than yours. 
What makes them think that you envy their madness, sadness, regrets--or their bills? 
What makes people think you're coveting what they don't own outright? 
It's funny hearing people brag about those things with which they have no time to play, for which they have no energy to properly care, and on which they are still making payments....

They must not have noticed that you have eyes and ears. They may be in denial and lacking discernment about their circumstances, unhappiness, insecurity, failures, and debt, but you aren't so impaired--nor do you desire their dysfunction, covet their schedules, long for their responsibilities, or favor their choices.

"Free indeed" needs no explanation. It's the root of much celebration.

It's sad watching people scraping and scratching to show you how much better they're doing than you are. "Grinding", I think it's called now, and many are doing it to the detriment of what should be their priorities. 
All they're doing is paying to play. 
Why are so many willing to do that, only to find themselves no farther along in the game than they were before? What is this need to hitch one's wagon to whatever is moving, only to find that the moving thing isn't any more connected than they are, isn't getting them "there" any faster, and isn't even on the right road
Grinding? Please. What makes some people pity you, and hope that you would be as overloaded and worn out as they are? They've elevated their busyness over your ability to rest, rejuvenate, choose, and have peace of mind. Poor things. That competitive demon is a doozy! It will make a runner think the people chilling in the bleachers eating hot dogs are in the race with them! 
REAL players on the field recognize other players, know their positions, and don't confuse them with fans, spectators, announcers, cheerleaders, or vendors. Real players also study and respect trailblazers, as opposed to merely critiquing and comparing them to themselves, or coveting their accomplishments and notoriety. Real players know who and what is, and will always be relevant. 

Stop stalking, tracking, blocking, and tackling people who aren't even in the game with you--nor do they want to be. Be teachable when faced with those who've actually played your game and played well. Pay attention to the field, You'll play better--and even enjoy your own game--and maybe even win one one day if you focus, stop looking back, and lose the arrogance. 
Properly motivated hard work pays off.

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: LESSONS


You'll get a ringside seat to observing and understanding things only God, time, and a fearless choice to open your eyes, can reveal. 

You'll realize how merciful an act it was, to allow you to go through certain situations that you would never have chosen. 
You thought they were designed to take you out, but you learned you were stronger and more resilient than you ever imagined.
 
When you emerge, you'll never be the same again; never gullible again; never underestimating yourself again. 
Compared to your new perspective, "woke" is an understatement.

It will finally occur to you, that the dysfunction you've witnessed and suffered through, originated and was nurtured for generations--long before you were even born. 
It was a curse designed to keep you forever bound and ignorant; forever docile and fearful; forever deceived. 
It knows no other way to operate as it enters, unhealed, one generation after another, crippling what could have been vital, and empowering what should have been denounced. 

Strife was sown. 
Envy was rewarded. 
Division and unreasonable competition, and unrealistic self esteem was taught. 
Enjoying peace, security, and harmony was like a crime, and now you understand why you have always craved it so. 

You will be more grateful than ever that you were rescued, and able to find and enjoy safety and comfort elsewhere. You'll know that contentment wasn't just for others to enjoy.
 
You were chosen and rescued by others who were divinely inspired to see in you what would have never been fully acknowledged, appreciated, or cultivated, but always criticized, minimized, and discouraged.

You know now, that things weren't considered normal, unless there was an argument or a fight going on. The violence you witnessed and heard, is etched in your memory. 
You weren't supposed to feel. 
Your tears were met with cynicism and laughter. Everything you said was dismissed, because you weren't allowed to have a voice. 

If a question was on the table, it was as if some prize was being given to whoever answered first. Whatever you said, was immediately shot down as if you couldn't possibly know the answer. 

It was preferred that you never excel above the level of others; never possess any more than others; never overcome what others could not master. 
Sabotage flourished. 
You could have nothing of your own. 
Independence was frowned upon. 
Doubt was inflicted. 

Roles were taught:
You're the smart one. 
You're the quiet one. 
You're the pretty one. 
You're the aggressive one. 
You're the passive one. 
You were always reminded what you were not

You were to be a mere reflection of another person's effort. 
Thinking for oneself; having an opinion, or dissenting thought was like mutiny. 
If you even thought about escaping it all, it drew you back. 
No one could be multi anything

Expectations were established, and even if you reached a pinnacle, no pinnacle reached was ever high enough. It was still failure. 
Your achievement wasn't for you, it was a bragging point for others to feed their insecurity. 
Your gifts and talents weren't yours, they were a reflection of someone else's wishes and had to be used--not in the way that was natural for you--but in a way that would not embarrass, humiliate, or upset some silly narrative.

No one really took the time to know you
You were introduced as the competition. 
Others were pitted against you, and you didn't even know it--until it appeared you were being shown favor. Then, they couldn't even hide their hate. 
To make themselves look better, they slandered you to anyone who would listen--and some listened a little too easily and eagerly, and believed the lies.

Whoever teaches, is respected. They can't be wrong in their estimations, can they
Whoever they like or love, you have to like and love, too--even if those people do you irreparable harm, and represent everything you detest. 
You are forced to be surrounded by people who hate you, and they are not shy about making their feelings known--even in your space.

You grow up, so does your discernment, and you see, for yourself, the dynamics of what has been going on throughout your whole life. 
Some never outgrow the drama. They absorb it because they always benefited from it--until it turned on them. 

The only loyalty in a dysfunctional situation is to the dysfunction. The players are dispensable. 
Some never get over the betrayal. 
They remain arrested in whatever era they made their first blunder; told their biggest lie; experienced their first disappointment; adopted their greatest shame. Covering up, making and keeping new secrets, justifying wrongdoing, excusing missteps, recreating self, abandoning previously held beliefs, and just plain living a lie, became the norm

Every relationship is built on the dysfunctional foundation, and the dysfunctional soon fuse themselves. Protecting self at all cost, recklessly gossiping, lying, and caring less about others is encouraged. 
No one knows how to love. They are only adept at using and abusing others, because they were taught that there's not enough to go around, and everyone is the enemy.

The dysfunction never dies with the dysfunctional. 
It is passed on, and in nightmares, the dead who perpetuated so much strife are laughing in their graves. They lived for it, and the thought that others could achieve the harmony and normalcy they never knew could exist, caused them to fight against it with all their might. They were known for messiness and chaos, and now, because they never endeavored to break the spell, so are their children-- and their children's children. 

Some escaped, weary, but not too scarred. 
Others don't know any other way to be. They've been immersed in it. It works for them, and they've adopted it. Instead of seeing how damaging the dysfunction has been, they pick up the mantle and perpetuate it in a new, gullible, eager-to-please generation.

It is evil, the spirit of secrecy that permeates families. It is a spirit that has weight. 
You sense it when it is near, and decide you will no longer be affected by, nor will you abide it. 
That means many things, including severing ties with anything and anyone that resurrects even the remotest reminder of it. 
Oh, it will try to find you. It will sidle up next to you; it will want to know what your next move will be, where you are, and what you are doing. 
It will not want to leave you alone. 
It knows nothing else than to compare itself to you, so it must keep tabs on you. 
It must find a way to stay connected. 

To be done with the evil is bliss. 
You had to abide it before. 
No such mandate exists now. 
You can be free.

You know now that dysfunction will infect you, and it must not be embraced or normalized. 
Don't entertain or excuse it. 
Don't rationalize or ignore it. 
Identify it, and call it what it is--no matter where it originates from. 
It will impose, and preen, and attempt to enlarge itself. 
It will feign normalcy and authenticity. 
It is loud and deliberate in its movement; deceptive and arrogant, nosy and pungent, and desperately needs to be seen, but when you find yourself laughing at it, you will know you are free

Remain free. Never think your name demands that you abide it, or defend it. 
That rule has always been a sinister one. 
Reject it. 
Learn the lessons— yours AND theirs.

Those who think their actions rattle and unsettle you are unsettled themselves
They want, and have always sought your attention and support, but fail to acknowledge how their learned words and behavior, make it veritably impossible for you to abide them. 
They are toxic. 
As with most attention-seekers who need validation from you, but find they will never get it, when they can no longer impact you, they will attempt to infect those closest to you, thinking surely that will get your attention. 
You know better. Just as you learned, through many trials, to think for yourself, to judge by actions, to rid your life of anything that carries seeds of destruction, others must do so as well. 
You, however will remain free

The talk is just noise. 
The feigned alliances are just for show, and will as always, fall apart until a new crop of gullible imps come along. 
Stay out of the fray. When you have been set, AND made free, remain so. 
No romanticizing. 
No looking back.

When people show you who they are, cry if you must; sit with the disappointment for a spell, but believe them the first time--no matter who they are.

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: STUDY WAR NO MORE


"O thus be it ever, when free men shall stand between their lov’d home, and the war’s desolation!
Blest with vict’ry and peace, may the heav’n rescued land, praise The Power that hath made, and preserv’d us a nation!
Then, conquer we must, when our cause it is JUST, and THIS be our motto—“In GOD is our trust”, and the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave o’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.” ~Francis Scott Key 


The year is in it’s infancy, and the warmongers are already busy. 
Maybe we should sing the third verse of the National Anthem, more often...and add to our motto, “Don't start nuthin’, won’t be nuthin’...". 

Maybe we'd do well to practice that ourselves.

It’s amazing that the people who instigate conflict, are rarely the ones on the front lines. 
They’re never the ones in the fight. 
They just create enemies, chaos, and danger for everyone else, then cower behind bodyguards and enjoy the safety of heavily barricaded bunkers. 
They never think of the consequences or casualties. They don’t THINK. 
For them, it’s all about “me and mine”. 

Greed, selfishness, and entitlement motivate people to dismiss the wisdom chip that demands a plan that says, “Proceed with caution. 
The people you provoke may be stronger and more cunning than you think.”

There's nothing ore pitiful than a bully who has no exit strategy.

SATURDAY THOUGHTS: EVERY JANUARY AND SEPTEMBER


This photo makes me smile. 
I took it in the fellowship hall of the old Metropolitan Baptist Church. 

My friends— two great composers/musicians, good-as-gold brothers; so respectful and appreciative of each other’s talent and expertise, and equally great at cutting up. 
Lawd, the wit and laughter...Today’s Freddye’s birthday. 
He was my best friend.

I’ve been asked often, “Who told Richard about you?” 
For years I’ve never had a sure answer. People I thought were responsible always denied it. Now, I’m reading “Total Praise: The Autobiography of Richard Smallwood” and I know that day (back in 1989?) wasn’t a coincidence.

Freddye called one afternoon and said, “Let’s go eat.” When I got into the car, he said he had to pick up something from Rehoboth first. I was just going to wait in the car when we got there, but he insisted I come inside. I could hear the piano from the vestibule. I stopped at the door of the sanctuary. I was a huge fan so I knew who was playing. I froze. Freddye said, “What’s the matter?” I said “OMG. That’s Richard Smallwood.” He said, “Yeah? So? Come on!” I said, “Noooo! I’m not going in there!” Freddye laughed and said, “He’s real cool. Come on!” I was still frozen. “You know him?” Freddye said “yeah” so matter of fact like, while pushing me down the side aisle. I don’t know when Toby appeared, but the next thing I knew, I was being introduced to The Maestro. Richard looked at me and said, “I heard you have a nice voice”. Freddye and Toby were grinning and instigating, “Sing something!” I trembled through a hymn, I think, while trying not to geek out. When I finished, Richard said my voice was “pretty”. I just felt faint...

Several years passed. I answered the phone. “Hey baby. This is Richard.” The rest is history, but frankly, that one afternoon at Rehoboth, with an audience of three, was plenty.

I think of him often, but always on two days in particular. Every January 4th, and September 11th, I think of Frederick Reginald Jackson, Jr.
Nineteen years ago, I was teaching my first class of the day, at Patricia Roberts Harris Educational Center. It was an "open space" school. There were no windows, and most classrooms didn't have doors. I was so surprised and happy to see Freddye and our mutual friend, Mia Murphy, standing at the entrance to my classroom, but their faces weren't showing the usual cheer. "We came to get you.", they whispered. You have to get out of here!" As I was talking to them, a teacher, who will remain nameless, took advantage of the morning's chaos, and lined up her entire class--my second period class-- right outside of my classroom. "My planning period is coming up" she said as she rushed for the exit door. She had her coat and purse. I knew what that meant. I would have two classes on my hands. I told them to come in and find seats wherever they could, but most of the children didn't stay long. Over and over, Yvonne Sherrod’s weary voice could be heard over the PA system. “Excuse the interruption. ___________, please report to the main office prepared to go home." 
Most frantic parents, however,  didn't bother stopping by the office, and just rushed to classrooms and pods to get their children. Many zoomed by my classroom not knowing their children weren't in their homerooms, but in Art class. "Ms. Williams, that was my mother!", many shouted, and I allowed them to chase after their parents to keep them from heading all the way from Pod A to C.

With no radios or TV on, the faculty and staff had no idea what had taken place in New York, let alone Pennsylvania or Arlington. The first rumor I heard from a parent was that The Capitol had been bombed. 
I knew I couldn't leave the kids. I told them they could talk among themselves, draw or paint whatever they wanted, and use as much of the materials as they could. 
While they worked, Mia and Freddye filled me in...
Eventually, the number of kids in the room dwindled. Some, whose parents who worked in Virginia, would not be picked up right away. 
Freddye and Mia eventually left, too-- to get food for everyone. They came back, and stayed in my classroom helping me to keep the children calm until the last child's parent arrived. It was after 4 PM. 
Even though I lived within walking distance, they took me home.

Every now and then, I’ll watch the “Anthem of Praise” video. He’d helped pen the title track of the “Persuaded” project, and was there in the audience at Jericho. 


Happy Birthday, Freddye. Rest in power, my friend. 
#page344
#mysterysolved
#grateful