Vindicate me

Vindication is on my mind today.  I have found that people who want to know or people who need to know are the worst people to have around you.  They ask too many questions.  They cross lines.  They lay outside the boundary of good, healthy relationships and they lie.  When they don't know or when they can't find out, they invent an alternative truth that is plausible to them.  It makes sense even if it is unproven.  It keeps them in the know.  Now, what do you do when the grapevine is stronger than God.  When a lie quickly becomes a truth or when an assumption becomes law.  Now, you have to have someone come in and set the record straight. God said, that he would set every crooked place straight.  When God gets done, the mouth of the nay-sayer will be slapped shut.  Every word that rose up against me in judgement, I will condemn.  I will see it with my own eyes.  No weapon formed against me shall prosper.  That means, all that labor will be in vain. 
Vindicate me

Leaven

Today, my thoughts drifted to leaven.  All my life, I have told to honor men in authority, especially the church.  I can remember going to church and the lights were out because the pastor was taking his own sweet time.  I remember going to church with pastors who had illegitimate children running around the neighborhood and no one said a word.  You know, when it works, it works.  When a Pastor is on his game, the church is a reflection of that.  When he is a charlatan, the church is a reflection of that.  If I was the devil, the perfect place to hide leaven is in leadership.  No one will say anything.  Everyone will look the wrong way.  People will defend it and even encourage it.  Regardless of it, the folks will "Amen" him and give him an offering.  The problem is that leaven you allow has every right to saturate the whole lump.  "Piss po ghetto churches" come from somewhere.  Often times, I hear the blame being placed on the sheep.  Sheep are culled for disease and wellness.  Who culls the pastor.  No one.  God can, but even when he does, the sheep will follow the pastor regardless.  A troubled sheep becomes dinner.  A troubled pastor becomes a troubled sheepfold.

Oh to Marry a King

1 Samuel 8 entails what a king would require of the people.  The Shulamite woman, being a regular female, would have been prepared to be the wife of an ordinary man.  If she married the King, none of those skills would be relevant.  I was in a women's meeting and some of the women there shared the most useless knowledge I had ever heard.  They related the 21st century woman to a woman who can bake bread and make quilts.  In other words, you will marry men who will require you to learn to cook from scratch and make your own clothes.  What about marrying a King?  What will the 21st century woman do if she marries a man who does not need her to prepare him meals or wash his clothes?  What if he already exist in a place where all of his needs are met.  The Shulamite woman had a chance to be wooed by the King who had all his needs met or the shepherd boy who was living paycheck to paycheck.  All my life, I have been told that the only man I was going to marry would be a man living from paycheck to paycheck.  A man who was truly preoccupied with fulfilling his own needs .  He did not have time to fulfill the needs of anyone else.  The Shulamite woman must have understood one thing.  The only reason why the King wanted her is because he loved her.  There was no impediment to his love like money, or occupation or family.  He was the King.  Some say that love that comes without money is pure love.  I disagree.  That love can very well be attached to the fact that financially you are needed for an upgrade.  The love of a King is not dependent on you being able to do anything for them.  The Shulamite was not the daughter of some great king so there was no political advantage.  She had no money.  Her family was not great and her father was dead.  The only thing that attracted him to the Shulamite woman was her beauty.  Her beauty is the one thing she diminished.  She said she was black because her brothers made her keeper of the vineyard.  Nothing in her registered that the King loved her anyway.  That is the love of a King

Pursue Me

Some relationships are not compatible neither are they equal and that is just the way God planned it.  Lately, I have been thinking about the Songs of Solomon.  The Songs of Solomon are a musical of sorts about love and finding love.  There is no mention of God in the book despite pious Christians trying to place him there.  It is a simple story of a King in love with a Shulamite woman while she is hopelessly in love with a shepherd boy.  Today, I thought about the beginning of the story.  It seems that she is chasing the shepherd boy who is being a shepherd boy.  His occupation is that of wandering from pasture to pasture with his flock.  His companions are those whom he works with, with the exception of this Shulamite woman.  She complains that she has to wander to find him like a prostitute.  He  responds with flattery, but never addresses the wandering.  I don't know why human beings settle for trying to impress someone who is not as impressed with you as it seems.  His aloofness is seen in other places in the Canticles.  He grows serious to come and get her after she is taken into the Kings harem.  The art of love is the art of pursuit.  That pursuit is on the part of the male.  The woman has the art of refusal.  In today's time, the woman is pursuing and the man is waiting to see just what you would do to get him.  I believe that a woman who will do anything for a man will also do anything to keep a man.  As hard as she had to work to get him will be the level of work she will have to do to keep him.  It sets up the kind of relationship where you will always be giving more than you can take.  When the man pursues, he is a natural hunter and there is reward in getting the woman he wanted.  He does not mind hunting because he has the nature to do so.  My first lesson from this book is one of balance.  If you are a woman, allow yourself to be pursued.  If you are a man, get busy.  Don't allow the woman to become a gift horse.  You should be a gift to her and not the other way around.  She should be your prize and not your sugar mama.  In this age, many men are raised by single women in the black community and therefore, they are used to sucking off of women for their daily needs.  It is foreign to them that they are going to have to provide for their families.  I avoid these men because I have raised other folks children and it wasn't as glamorous as the church folk will tell you it was.  I want to be pursued.  I deserve to be pursued and I will be pursued.

Your sheaves bowed to mine

I have always heard this downright lie that God blessed Joseph because he wanted Joseph to bless his people.  What a sweet democratic dream.  God would place you in a position for the soul reason of you reaching in your pocket and giving it away.  Nice, but off.  When I read about Joseph's dream, which was the start of all of this, I see that the dream said nothing about him helping his brothers.  As a matter of fact, the dream said that he would rule over his brothers.  Out of this rulership would come the grain in the famine.  Joseph was not the salvation of his family, he was the salvation of Egypt.  It was in him saving Egypt that his family was included.  Joseph's mission in life was bigger than his family.  It is stupid to think that God lifted your family members so you can have someone to pay your rent.  Pay your own rent.  Stand on your own two feet.  God's purpose in my life is bigger than my family.  I was called to the world.  I like how his brothers had to submit to his rulership in order to get the blessing of Joseph.  You will not take my money and despise my authority.  You will not ask for my hand and refuse to come under my hand.  I will not help someone I cannot chasten anymore.

Not Equal and Not Fair

Ghetto theology always ends up looking like democratic rhetoric.  Everybody needs a hand.  Everybody needs the same rights.  Everybody needs a chicken.  I hate it.  All this talk about an even playing field when no one ever ask the all important question.  Who made the playing field uneven in the first place.  All over the bible, I see God handing out gifts severally as he will. He gives ten then five and then one.  I don't see where he is bound by this false rule of equality that says he must give everyone the same thing.  If this is true, than is it not God who made the playing field uneven.  Why should we then kick against the pricks.  God chose one nation of people.  God favored one tribe to be priest.  God chose one tribe to send the Messiah.  God is not equal.  Then I hear that God has to be fair.  What he does for one he must do for all.  God saved the Israelites.  God drowned Pharaoh.  God is not fair.  Now, I don't have a problem with God not being fair or equal.  It is his divine wisdom that understands and knows what we can handle and how we profit from his gifts.  He is all knowing.  He knows where he will gain and he knows where his time will be wasted.  Everything good comes from him and was made by him therefore, we must not be thieves, speaking over things we do not own.  The earth is the Lords and the fullness thereof.  His ownership gives him the divine right to do just as he pleases without apology or explanation.  We may not like it, but God is not bound to be equal or fair.  The best way to live is with your eyes on your own talent.

Push the Snooze button

Sometimes, I have dreams.  Sweet dreams.  Dreams so sweet that I don't want to wake up and smell the coffee.  In my dreams, I am in love and he is everything that God showed me he would be.  He is accomplished, proven and stable.  He is truly a great man in his greatness.   I awake and plunge into a sea of familial failures who have nothing to show for their lives but a bunch of abandoned children and good women who did not deserve what they got.  This is the gold at the end of the rainbow?  I'd rather stay asleep and dream.  I know that sounds funny, but hopelessness sets in when I look out the window and see most of the available black men unavailable.  I can't drift into hopelessness.  If the only way I can keep hope from being deferred is to dream, then I will dream. 

Insufficient things

Today was a different day.  I believe that when insufficient things in life, that are not supposed to function actually function, we have problems.  I thought back to my life as a young girl and how my mother was really an insufficient mother.  Our family functioned because of all of the extensions working overtime to make sure that the family had what it needed.  It was a stressor on us and all who came in contact with us, therefore, I don’t blame folks for ignoring the phone calls.  It was a mess.  The best thing for it was for it to be able to just do what it was supposed to do.  It was supposed to look bad, stank bad and feel bad.  It was the insufficiency of that family that led me to look for functioning elements of family and womanhood and that is how I became what I am today.  The natural consequences needed the space to occur so that the dysfunctional family could one day…………

Carver

I read a book about George Washington Carver.  He was so unique, raised by white parents and then plunged into a predominantly white university and allowed to get two degrees.  From there, he went into the deep south and from the start, he was despised.  It was his coming that showed them how insufficient their university was despite all that had been done.  Carver had a better education from a better institution and that made him better.  Better is not superior for even better submits to someone but better at times is simply better.  His receiving was cool and at times disrespectful, but other than Booker T, no one else is remembered as much as George Washington Carver.  You can’t despise better.  He made that place a better place.  He put it on the map.  He placed it in history.  We remember it because of him.  He made the place……………………better.

Headless, No more

Everyone needs to submit to something.  Headship is not a bad thing.  I think back to my headless life.  My father left and never returned.  My grandfather molested me.  My brother did not answer the phone.  That left me pretty headless and so I improvised and raised myself.  Now, at the age of 43, I can reflect that it was not fun.  I think that I am ready to turn the reigns over to the rightful position and learn to live as I was supposed to live.  I was never designed to mop up other people’s messes and raise other people’s children and pay other people’s bills and make sure other people survive.  That was never my problem.

Patches

There comes a time in the life of fashion that you cannot add any more patches.  I can remember young boys playing outside in their old jeans that had been patched beyond belief.  Both knees were replaced.  Patches were in the back and on the buttocks.  The hem had been let out as far as it could go.  At some point, the parent had to realize that it was  just time for a new pair of jeans.  That is how I have been feeling about my life lately.  I have added accommodations trying to make it to the next level of living and now I feel that it is just time to go to the next level.  That means that I am going to have to leave some people behind and some people aren’t that good at understanding .  Feelings will be hurt.  Tears will be shed. 

Nobody said that it would be a picnic.

That is life.

Only at the end

We often try to judge things at the beginning to get some perceived blessing or some sacred nod from an influential person.  If this person or that person would acknowledge that this relationship is valid and is going to make it, I would feel better about going into it.  Well, I hate to tell you, but no one can give you that information but God.  What I know about God, is that he is a perfect gentleman.  He knows when your mind is already made up despite the risk.  If you are willing to take the risk, he is willing to allow you to bite the forbidden fruit and let the juice run down your cheek.  All anyone can access in the beginning of a relationship is risk.  It is at the end that you evaluate if the relationship was a good one or not.  If you are not the same person you used to be.  If you are bitter and sensitive.  If all you have are memories that turn into nightmares, then the relationship was not a good one for you.  I always ask myself, what has my relationship with a person or place or institution done to me.  What kind of person did it create?  Do I like the person it created?  Only at the end of a thing, can we properly decide if it is a good thing.