Get up and Go

New doors are opening for me right before my eyes.  Opportunities that I did not see are visualizing on my horizon.  A bright future is in store for me, but there is one thing I must conquer.  When God opens a door for you that is not going to open for those around you, you can become conflicted.  The folks around you aren't going to agree with you going through the door because, they want you with them.  Your "haters" don't want you to go through the door because they hate you.  You can stand in the doorway debating what life would be and is going to be just because you took advantage of an open door.  Sooner or later, you find that you wait so long in confusion, that the door shuts for you too.  Now, your system will come and rebuke you for not going through that door.  You will rebuke you for not going through that door.  You have to prepare for opportunity to come.  Put words in your mouth that let folks know you aren't scared of leaving them.  You don't mind taking a different path and you don't care how much they pray you stay.  You have to be like the wise man who came and told his servants that he was taking a long journey.  Prepare the way.  Even Jesus had his birth announced by angels and his life proclaimed by John the Baptist.  He waited until his day came and then Jesus entered this earth in flesh form.  Going through a door will change you and your systems, but don't just stand there wondering.  Go through the door.

Mary, Mary Quite Contrary

I think a lot about gardens.  I don't have the space for one in my complex, so I take a short ride to Forrest Park and enjoy the garden space.  In the summer, I go to the zoo and picnic in the gardens.  It is absolutely freeing.  St. Louis is one of the most fantastic spots for flower searching when the season is warm.  Every now and then, I see a city worker making sure the grounds stay gorgeous.  As a matter of fact, they work really hard mowing and pruning and picking up the trash.  I wondered if they ever brown bagged a lunch and sat down by the botanical gardens to simply enjoy the beauty.  I realized that you can work all day to keep it beautiful, but then not enjoy it.  That is what I think of when I think of a family.  Family is notorious for becoming the undoing of the very network they want to build.  I believe it is because they focus on the weeds so much, they can't see the beauty in what is happening that is good.  I get on the phone with my cousins and all I hear is how they have ill treated each other.  I, on the other hand, only want to remember the good old days.  We don't have to rehearse where the thorns were, or that the cherry tree died.  Bad things will define themselves, we don't need to help it.  Dry patches will never heal if we keep picking at it and some parts of the garden simply need another season.  It will just take time.  Now, next time you go to the family reunion, remember to enjoy your family and not just rehearse and nurse old wounds.

I am not a prophet nor a prophet's son.

There is a special place in my heart for the prophet Amos.  He is one that I can relate to.  I grew up in a religious set that had it's own aristocracy.  Pastors and their children were like Kings and Princes.  Then there was the rest of us.  I did not fit there.  If there were nobleman that meant your mother was an evangelist and your father a minster or elder.  My mother was a Sunday school teacher ransomed by grace and my father did not believe in God until after I was good and grown.  You can say that he was an atheist.  My grandmother was before her time and discounted because she was a woman.  I was rejected.  At least I could count on my looks, but I was overweight so that left me out.  Among church boys, they looked for sexually active church girls and I wasn't giving up nothing.  They rejected me.  Church women told me that having sex outside of marriage did not mean a thing.  They told me I could jump up and marry elders, like they did.  When I decided to remain celibate until marriage, they rejected me.  After realizing that church was not where I fit in, I went to academia where I excelled.  I loved to learn about things and I did well there until college.  In college, I found that it was not grades that made the person, but money.  If you don't have money, it does not matter about the grades.  I was dirt poor, so many people shunned me.  Can you imagine how surprised I was to receive a calling into the ministry.  I had no money.  I had no pedigree.  I was the wrong gender and in some places, the wrong color.  Amos says that he was not a prophet nor a prophet's son.  He said that he was a gatherer of the sycamore fruit.  He was a common "Joe Schmo" who just happened upon a God who uses ordinary people.  All the signs of ministry weren't pointing at me, but God chose me.  I am a testament to the fact that God does not look at what you have, or who your father is, or what title you have, or what seat you sit in, or how much money is in the bank.  He uses and blesses ordinary lives and causes them to be extraordinary.  I think back on those days when people could barely remember my name and I thank God for the knowledge.  I know that the only reason why society recognizes it now is because God has made it an advantage to know me.  God has made my words a value and my presence a blessing.  Most people who have come in contact with me will never forget me.  That is God.  One time in my life, people mispronounced my name, made me feel bad for spending food stamps and talked about my mother while I was sitting at the table trying to eat.  I was fearfully and wonderfully made then, but I was not a value to anyone.  God is amazing.  If he can do it for me, he can do it for you.

Lying and excellence

I grew up a magnificent liar.  Lies were so common that the truth was barely seen.  When I began to be delivered from lying, I found that people liked me better as a liar.  My first encounter with lying was not at home per se, but in church.  I have been a member of at least fourteen different congregations since birth.  I remember them with poignant clarity.  Some were huge cathedrals and some were store fronts.  It was in the combination of these experiences that I learned about lying.  Some of the churches that I attended were nothing more than rooms with a floor.  The seats were damaged and a few had no working toilets.  Some of the kitchens they tried to feed me out of, had visible bugs and was beyond repair.  Service times varied like river water and you were never sure when you would get out.  It seemed like church leaders were indifferent to the people as long as they paid the tithe.  About the age of ten, I was baptized at East Mt. Zion church in Cleveland.  That is when I noticed a difference.  Services were timely and the messages were relevant, but what I enjoyed was the beauty of the sanctuary.  It was one of the prettiest churches that I had seen in my whole life to that point.  From that point on, I refused to say something was excellent when it was not.  I will concede that it is the best you can do, but I will not call it excellent.  I finally gave my life to God at the age of twelve.  The church I attended then was one of the prettiest in town.  The carpet was red and the pews were cushioned.  The windows were stained green and cream and over the pulpit was a hand painted picture of Christ that my pastor painted herself.  She had a modern kitchen but she did not allow selling in the church.  Whatever we served was free.  She was timely and had well prepared lessons.  Every Saturday, was church cleaning day so that Sunday, the basement smelled like Pine Sol.  I will never forget Pastor Mary Lou Parker and her family.  She had a spirit of excellence where nothing less would be applauded.  I can remember Missionary Robbie Cobbs who was elegant in every way.  Whatever she put her hand to do was done well and was excellent.  I won't forget her either.  Now, when I go to churches where excellence is a work in progress, I don't offend.  I bow out politely and get in my car.  I go to a nice restaurant and I sit to eat in excellence.  I will no longer tolerate lying to spare your feelings.  If I can't say anything, I won't say anything.  It keeps your feelings from being hurt and it keeps me from lying.

A lesson in the laws of leaving a legacy.

I have learned, in my life, how to leave something or prepare it for change.  I don't think we know how to prepare for change.  I take this wisdom from the Bible.  There are at least two parables where a master takes a far journey entrusting his servants to be good stewards until he returns.  The master always leaves something to make profitable.  He always tells his servants that he is leaving and he always comes back.  What he does not say is when.  When I think of this, it becomes a pattern for life.  Never leave a place without a proper benediction.  A benediction is a prayer of blessing for those who are departing.  Even in anger, you can find some kind words to say in parting.  I never leave someone without showing them to the door and saying goodbye.  It is important for the next transition of their life.  The next thing is that one should leave something behind.  In the Bible, the master left talents.  You should never leave a place taking all of it's resources with you.  Just like it is wrong to die and leave nothing but unpaid bills, it is wrong to leave a place with others cleaning up your mess.  It sets a precedent when a leader leaves the incoming leader with a mess it will take the whole administration to fix.  Lastly, come back.  It is always good to visit places where you have left seed to see how it has grown.  I consider it rude to leave a place and then respond with indifference to events that place you in that same circle of people.  You should now be able to see people from a former place at a wedding and the wedding remain a pure moment.  It is important how you arrive at a place and it is important how you leave a place.  Don't leave it in ruins, but leave a legacy.

Vain imaginations and lying vanities.

Today, my mind goes back to the schoolyard playground where my friends and my enemies met after Christmas break.  It was, Oh So, important to wear something, on that day in January, than no one had seen.  We waited through the school day for recess.  It was the most precious of all the minutes of that day.  The person who had the most gifts under the tree normally was the quietest.  That person knew that their gifts would hush the crowd.  The person who just got what their parents could afford was silent too.  It was our version of Don't Ask/Don't Tell.  The loudest cat in the litter box was the person who got absolutely nothing.  They named game systems, bikes, gym shoes, and boom boxes.  They talked about clothes that was stored for a special occasion and presents so expensive, their was no way their momma was going to let them bring it to school.  All the while, when they were talking, we looked at their clothes and their book bag and their shoes.  It told us the real story.  When we got tired, we challenged the poor child.  It was then that he or she thought we were calling him a liar and those were fighting words.  Sometimes, we took up arms and fought.  Other times, someone else began to show what they got for Christmas.  We all just changed the subject.  Now that I am grown, I find the same scenario.  People sit and say what they will do with a million dollars, but can't manage five bucks.  They say what they are going to do to improve their lives and go home back in front of the same television set.  They set lofty goals that sound good, but the year rolls around and they have absolutely nothing to show for it.  Last year, I proclaimed a 100 pound weight drop.  Now that the end of the year is here, I have about thirty off.  I would be sad, but I can say that I have something to back up my words.  I am definitely not the same person I was last year.  I have a scale to say that I attempted my goal even if I did not meet it.  The shame would have been if the year rolled out and I was just as big as I was last year.  We have to learn that our words mean something.  We have to learn to not just let our words become vain imaginations.  They just can't be lying vanities.  What we were doing on the playground years ago was lying.  God help us all.

A deciduous journey

Outside my window, there is a tree.  I first noticed it in the summer when the leaves were lush and abundant.  It seemed to be a happy tree.  What tree would not be happy in the summer?  Pic knickers lunched in it's shade.  Star crossed lovers carved their name in the bark, and someone even hung a swing.  It was easy being green in the summer.  July and August were dreams come true and September was the magnum opus.  Life was not supposed to change for the tree, but it did.  Each morning, there was a visible struggle to remain green.  The sun hid it's rays and the daylight went home early.  The winds blew and it took the strength of ten men to hold the leaves in their place.  Sometime in October, the tree grew tired and relaxed into a beautiful vision of orange and yellow.  He thought that it wasn't as bad as he perceived it to be.  He actually liked the smell of pumpkin soup from the house and the scarecrow placed by the gaslight for decoration.  He liked the children dressed like cowboys and Indians eating taffy apples at the Fall Festival.  He enjoyed the lull of the season and mulled apple cider.  It was all picturesque until the winds picked up and became colder, stronger and frequent.  He tried to grab his leaves and pull them to himself, but when the winds died down, he was bare.  Each day, another part of himself was revealed.  Each day something showed that had once been hidden.  by Thanksgiving, there was nothing left to hide.  How could he live exposed to the elements, alone in the moonlight, abandoned by the sun?  It was all so bleak, but the short days passed quickly and in the night sky, no one discerned his nakedness.  It was quite peaceful.  He slept.  He slept months until he decided to just remain that way.  He could sleep the rest of his life.  In February, he began to feel something working inside him.  It was something dreadfully wonderful.  It made him afraid and it made him alive.  Could it be that he had not been forgotten after all?  The Sun greeted him earlier and earlier and the snow and ice turned to simple rain.  At the end of March, he sneezed and out poured the greenest leaf.  It was greener than when he last saw it and it certainly was prettier than when he last saw it.  Each day, they got greener and more greens begot more greens until he was full again.  In June he waved in the breeze happy and unafraid of autumn and winter.  Spring and summer would come.  It had to come.  God said it had to come, so even if trouble is here for a little while; it can't last always.  If there is an ending, there is a new beginning.  There is always a new beginning.

Bitterness

Everyone in life has something that they can be bitter about.  It is our way of holding someone responsible for where they have left us or what they have done to us.  Bitterness is like killing yourself to hurt someone else.  It is the only thing that you can think to do to make yourself feel better, only "feeling better" never happens.  Life swirls out of control, you hurt people you love, you love people you have hurt, awkward moments become awkward years and before you know it, life is done and what have you done with it.  Today, I sat down with a wise man and we discussed life.  It tries to leave you bitter, but you have to refuse it.  It tries to leave you hurt, but refuse it.  When I was small, my mother and father divorced.  One tried to hurt the other in various ways.  Instead of moving on like they wanted to, they kept picking at a sore and expecting it to heal.  When I became old enough for parents to become friends, I kept them parents.  Other than my seasonal obligations, I kept them on a long handled spoon.  While trying to destroy each other, they destroyed the part of the "other" that lived in me.  My father hated my adherence to religion.  My mother was very religious.  My mother hated my attitude.  I act like my father.  Bitterness did not destroy just them, it destroyed me. 

Hunger comes in many colors

It is true that once one becomes a humanitarian, you lose your sense of loyalty to man's divisions.  You begin to see people as people.  Of late, I have been emerging into something new, different and wonderful.  Something in my life has stretched me far beyond where I ever thought that I would go.  It has caused me to see things so differently.  It has caused me to see things as they are.  Once upon a time, I used to believe in causes that went no further than my own church, my own family or myself.  My world was as small as a fishbowl and hunger only had one color.  As I have been stretched by my place of employment to see disadvantage, hunger, cold, and illiterate in what ever color shows up on your front porch, I have become a humanitarian.  I am not the champion for the black person.  I am the champion for the down trodden and those denied the basics of living.  I challenge you to begin to see beyond yourself and into a bright world that needs another King, another Ghandi, and another Mother Theresa.

Wasting the day

You can pray for something that God has no intention of doing in your life.  Jeremiah 29 speaks to this cause.  Jeremiah says that it will be seventy years before God brings them out of Babylon free.  That was a hint to put your efforts somewhere else.  You aren't coming out until he says you are coming out.  God told them to marry, and give their daughters in marriage.  He told them to pray for Babylon because their peace is now your peace.  Notice, that he did not tell them to pray to be free.  There was an appointed time to be free, there was no need to pray for something God already answered.  To pray anything other than God's will is simply wasting the day.

You and Only You

     One day, I was sitting in a meditative mode and I heard the Lord say, "Some doors open for you and only you".  In the same scenario, I saw a person debating whether they should go through the door because someone they are in relationship with is not going to be able to go with them.  When I worked for a University, I saw so many students torn between embracing college and remaining in a relationship with someone who just was not accepted.  It was not going to work for them.  College was going to split the two.  Some students even left college to go home and attend Jr. college with their peers who weren't college material.  Sometimes, the door swings open and the only way you are going to go through it is alone.  You can't take your family members, you can't take your church, you can't take your friends and you may have to leave your mother and father.  The door was never their destiny and to try to squeeze them in a place that does not fit is wrong.  I have a millionaire in my family.  She has doors opened to her that is not open for the rest of us.  I understand that.  She is not obligated to pay my mortgage or buy me a car simply because she is my rich cousin.  That door has not opened to me yet. It is not wrong that she takes full advantage of where she is in life.  You can get into so much trouble by trying to drag people who aren't prepared for where you are going with you.  When they get there, they are uncomfortable, they are unprepared and they will fail.  You have taken them to a place where they were never meant to be.  Some doors you just have to go through alone.

Done

Today's thought piggy backs off of yesterday's blog.  It references the parable of the talents and the unprofitable servant in Matthew 25.  It came to me how thoughtful the unprofitable servant's response was.  He says," I knew you were a hard man, reaping where you sowed not".  He chose a lot of words to simply say.  I did nothing.  Here is what nothing sounds like
I didn't have time
It slipped my mind
I'll do it tomorrow
It's on the agenda
Don't think I forgot
I really tried to
I ran out of time
It wasn't in the budget
We create so many ways to say, that the job was not done.  I learned this one thing in management.  A job undone is a job undone no matter how you say it.  It pushes me to continue doing a thing until that thing is completely and totally done.  Only then can he say, " Well Done".  He can say well done if the job is done.