Black Belief!

I believe I am the answered prayer of a slave.

I believe that the God of my slave ancestors is outside of religion space and time

I believe that God is consistent and his word is his bond (promises)!

He promised:

hell on earth

calamity and suffering; on this he was clear

I know of the suffering of the black slaves

I know the suffering of generations to come and I empathize and stand to chant

BLACK LIVES MATTER

God’s truth holds in court

God assures peaks of peace and times of prosperous soulful restoration

the movement and belief that BlACK LIVES MATTER

witnesses to the struggle of souls

and the promised and answered prayers of slaves

that we would marry wisdom, dance with destiny and find peace in chaos

Proclaim our integrity

We will walk along with the historical negro voices

Our feet will hit rock, and legs will get scarred

Our voices will unite in a war cry

then, you will see our war dance

My people, My black people:

Stand with justice

And, light lady liberty’s flame

Be proud of our kinky hair and dark skin.

Black is beautiful.

God did not give us reason for doubt

But, he (God) promised a journey unlike any humans and overwhelming opportunities

I always wonder one day beside my name will they say “first negro to accomplish this” (whatever “this” is)

I was once a slave

But now we awaken and is FREE!

I was a slave until those cops killed my black brothers and sisters

I was a slave until I was denied rights based on the color of my skin

I was a slave until, I realized as a race, as a people; whom we were meant to be.

“Like Dust, I RISE!” Angelou said

For we are the rhythm and beat of a negro hymn

We triumph in memory believing, God is with us and gave a new name, a new identity and called us to a high calling

He called us his people, then he called us friend

and birthed us purposefully in an era of change, reconstruction, and opportunity

This is what I believe!

Kwanzaa: Ujima: Black lives do matter!

• Ujima (Collective Work and Responsibility): To build and maintain our community together and make our brothers’ and sisters’ problems our problems and to solve them together (wiki..)

 

I’d like to highlight the #blacklivesmatter movement for holding the sacred truths of Kwanzaa (deliberate or not). In reality, we are not far from the African American Civil Rights Movement (1954-1968). Our fight as black people may have transition but it has not changed.

2017 saw too much black death, by a fellow brother or sister, by a cop, by leaders who abuse their power, and citizens whom are quick to pick up a pistol before having that same quickness to listen. Sometimes I think we want to see hate, and violence, and discrimination as it’s a mask energy source. As if we as a country do not know how to live in harmony and peace. Or maybe we are afraid of it

Children are not born hateful, it is taught! Allow our children dear universe, equal opportunity to play and scrap their knees with one another. For our daughters not to be discouraged because their isn’t foundation to match their skin tone. For our sons to be known for their character and to not be known for the quality of his sneakers. For our children, dear universe, to aspire to be doctors, lawyers, construction owners, business owners, chefs, inventors, cosmetologist, teachers, and preachers as well. For them, limitless is their only option.  We went to be equally recognized in the media, movies, politics, and music; equally paid not based on gender or skin tone, but on hard work.

Many are threatened by the black lives matter movement/ civil rights movement just like they were in the 50’s and 60’s. There’s not a reason for fear. We black people, minorities, and women are the ones who live in fear. We come in peace. We demand respect, do not apologize for our integrity, we do not apologize for our kinky hair, dark skin, and broad backs. We are made in the image of our father, the creator of the universe. We don’t want our children to fear going to school for the fear of being killed is so surreal. Or fathers in the morning says goodbye to his children, but in his mind, he questions “will this be my final goodbye?”

I don’t want to read about another Trans/Queer/LGBTQIA person being killed, and never given their day of justice in front of blind lady liberty. I don’t want another brother or sister who is Trans/Queer/LGBTQIA and them not be recognized as human beings with a soul and as an equal creation from our creator.

I pray that in 2018 there are no more deaths plagued by the disease or prejudice, racism, and hate. I pray that in 2018 everyone has insurance. I pray that in 2018 no one goes to bed hungry, and no one is sleeping in the winter or summer, under a bridge or on the sidewalks. I pray for change!

I also understand that those who fought and continue to fight the good fight would want us in 2018 to keep fighting, but not just for us. For anyone without a voice. I pray eventually we birth a generation that is moved past race and gender and seen as a human. I pray that our society stops viewing individuals who are not white skin, or blue eyes as different. For we are a people, with a soul, with a story, and a child of the universe; just like them.

It’s our responsibility to our fellow brothers and sisters of the good fight. to build and maintain our community together and make our brothers’ and sisters’ problems our problems and to solve them together

 

Kwanzaa: Umoja: Unity:

Umoja- Unity

When I think of unity I think of “wholeness” this year I’ve been made whole in many areas of my life. I’m not as sick as I have been, no longer homeless and no longer alone. Unity was a choice I had to make; a goal I set and one I conquered. I’m grateful! Is all I can say. There’s something and someone bigger than me and kept me company. I cried much, but my tears never fell on empty grounds.

I am whole

I think about all the trials and tribulations we as African Americans have overcome and still face, while death is outside our door, we still sing “we shall overcome” I have never been as proud as I have as an African American until we came together, made our voices heard, and are still demanding justice and equality.

We are whole

United we stand Divided we shall fall. God is with us. Our ancestors march within us from the heavens, opening doors, and blasting with trumpets. We are not alone. History can’t forget our marks that we are leaving on this earth. And the future will not ignore us.

We are ONE!

Joyous Kwanzaa, everyone.

 

 

 

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.