Kwanzaa: Umoja

Today is the first day of Kwanzaa it is Umoja which means Unity and it was an amazing day. Christmas brought a day of blues, I had no electricity and heat and my animals were so cold I thought that they had died. It was a day of despair. I stayed in bed. It started on Christmas Eve when I realized this would be another holiday alone no parents, or friends, or mentors, just me. I wanted to blame it on covid but this is every year. Last time I had a real Christmas I was a teen with my foster family around a tree opening gifts and I was too mentally ill to appreciate it. I wish I could take those days back. Because now those days are bleak.

It’s interesting that Kwanzaa started on a Sunday. My favorite day of the week because I love hearing sermons from Pastor Steven Furtick at Elevation Church. Unity to me was texting a few friends but reconnecting with Jesus on an in-depth level in knowing I may not wake up to family nor hear from them anymore but I have so much to be grateful for my and the idea of a family for me has evolved. I have a Continuum Family, my mentor mommy is pregnant and married, I have my foster family, I have pets and friends I made across the world from Elevation church. I also had top surgery and I feel great becoming the man I was and always have been.

Umoja has evolved it’s not just being around the people you are born to but those you surround yourself with and allow yourself to love you. Covid has allowed me to broaden myself, even more, public speaking engagements have started and I have created friendships and am starting graduate school at an all-accepting Christian University studying Social Work and Positive Psychology. Umoja means the unity of dreams coming true, communities coming together, and self-growth.

I’m grateful. This has been a sad year regarding covid and deaths. However, relationships have budded in my life and ended. All are considered a blessing. I worked two jobs one educating k-1 students and a second helping homeless veterans.

What really put the icing on the cake tonight was that I realized every tear I cried Jesus caught and put in a jar. And he (Jesus) also cried too. Every time I wanted to give up there was an angel sent my way. Every time I was hungry and had no food or money God sent angels to help me out. He also sent me a brother. I’ve never been alone in my darkest hour. I remember what makes Christmas so great was that God was silent for over 400 hundred years and the hope was that he was sending a Messiah and he sent a baby. Jesus came into this world as King but as one of us needing naps and diaper changes too. He came lowly and rose highly. Then he died on a cross for our sins if you choose to believe so that there will never be years of silence between creation and God again. I found hope in this. I knew this. But to hear it again with compassion, humor made me cry I and I felt my pain release. I knew I can no longer look back. My trauma is just that trauma, not my future. My past will help me be a better person, social worker, and psychologist. My trauma will be my motivator, not my hinder.

I’ve been released. Joyous Kwanzaa indeed it has been for me. Umoja Everyone May You All Have A Story To Tell

My Christmas Gift

My heart was becoming numb and joy was scarce. I didn’t want to acknowledge my own bitterness, but it was there. I couldn’t feel hope, I didn’t think the sun would ever shine again. Alone I felt, in a darkened world.

Alone I traveled in the woods of life. Alone I slept and with tears, I cried “ABA, why have you forsaken me?” I cried again, “ABA, why have you welcomed this pain and a well of emptiness?”

Angry was I with the young, for having what I dreamed of. Angry I was with the old, for their eye were closed. I was angry! I was scared, and questioned, “will it always be this way?”

“Will I ever feel the joy and warmth of the sun, or will the cold break me, and leave me with brittle bones.”

Silent God was still. Hopeful I became.

Let us go to church! Let us celebrate Jesus, the true reason for the season. In my mind I was thinking critically, trying to disrobe this facade pagan holiday, to tear it from the Christians, and all because I was bitter.

I walked to church, and then my heart opened, and I prayed “ABA, meet me there, at the place of your dwelling, your sacred temple, where your word is spoken, deliver me of God, grant me your mercy and grace. Let me feel. Let me heal. I’ll go, just meet me there!”

A sermon was spoken, and it was as if God spoke to me directly. As though everyone had left because the word was for me.

“I love you,” the pastor said.

“I died for you,” the pastor said.

“I knew you before your birth,” the pastor said

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the pastor said.

“Meet me, for I am here,” the pastor said

“I went away to prepare a place, where your tears will stop flowing, your heart will breath fresh air, you will sing without condemnation and praise with cease,” God said to me

“I’ve never left, I’ve always cared, you’re my child and I’ll always be there. I’ve seen your tears, I have seen your pain, I was next to you in the kitchen when you cried out to me in a song. I was in your room when you told me that you couldn’t hold on. I was there when you listened to every sermon, hoping to see me in them. I was there my child. I was there, baby girl.

I just needed you to me meet me half way there. I can take away all the pain.

I can give you rest.

I can give you are a reason to smile.

I can grant you peace.

But if you’re not ready to receive me, receive my gifts and internally accept me, then you will be in this spot again.

But You’ve come to me, and this sermon is for you.

You are not alone, I’m am here.

I have not forsaken you, I live inside of you.

I’m the piece to your broken heart, the answer to your prayers.

You’ve met me and I AM HERE! he spoke to my heart.

So, I lifted my hands, and tears were flowing, I didn’t care who saw me, I lifted my hands, I felt his love, I saw visions of his love, I saw the family he gave me, and the opportunities set before me.

I worshiped with the angels. My heart was opened, and I could feel again.

I cried and sang proudly and boldly. Left in peace, and was given a blessing.

I may have not received a physical gift, but a healed heart was my wish. Bitterness has left. I was blessed.

Merry Christmas.