We Are Witnesses

Taken from 1 Thessalonians 2:10-13 in the Contemporary English Version; verses are below.

Lost people will be fooled by his evil deeds. They could be saved, but they will refuse to love the truth and accept it. So God will make sure they are fooled into believing a lie. All of them will be punished, because they would rather do evil than believe the truth.

My friends, the Lord loves you, and it is only natural for us to thank God for you. God chose you to be the first ones to be saved. His Spirit made you holy, and you put your faith in the truth. 

Most of you know that I a Miami Heat fan, from the days of Tim Hardaway and Alonzo Mourning, and more so since that epic 2006 playoff run when Dwyane Wade carried the team to its first NBA title. Although LeBron took his talents to South Beach four summers ago, sports fans remember the "We Are Witnesses" t-shirts Nike made during his Cleveland Cavaliers days and the famous pregame ritual which he rubs his hands in powder, claps to make a cloud, and the crowd would go wild. As those Cavs fans were for those seven seasons of triumph and heartbreaks - and thankfully, my Heat for the past four years - we are witnesses to greatness. Just as the media heaps pressure upon him, people in (and out) the church have an expectation of us concerning behaviors, obligations, and commandments. Are we caving to the outside world, or working under a unified message?

Five points come from this message: 1)Realize we are witnesses; 2)Move quickly to teach the ways; 3)Live like your words and actions carry the weight intended; 4)Perform due diligence; and 5) Understand some people are here to hate on you. Don't let them break you.

I. Realize we are witnesses. There are few tasks in Christianity greater than seeing it and being able to tell it, so spread the word. It doesn't sound terribly difficult, yet people tend to keep their mouths shut in fear of what others may think. If they talked about Jesus, why do you think you are untouchable? The responsibility is to stick to the message as closely as possible with deviation. Paul further specifies that our witness is fair, impartial, and such that we live the way we say we do. Simple enough, until we stray.

II. Move quickly to teach the ways. Again, I am using a sports analogy. The Patriot Way means everyone is held accountable and there is a unified front; a controlled message is easier to manage than one in which the organization has to distance itself from one bad apple. A few years ago, New England brought in a very controversial wide receiver because his on-field talents were considered vital toward another Super Bowl title. Sadly, he never understood the playbook and was unceremoniously released at the end of that season as a result of his inability to learn quickly. Like the coach, a team that buys into winning concepts as defined by leadership tends to be more productive. In real life, our parents/grandparents/legal guardians are highly recommended to teach right from wrong in addition to the steps ordered by God. By catching the young while their impressionable minds are still spongy, they are able to walk worthy of the Lord (Colossians 1:10).

III. Live like your words and actions carry the intended weight. It would be hard to believe a pastor who preaches against fornication if every time you see him, he's walking out the cat house smelling like a good time. Ditto for us. While we all are sinners, we need to continuously strive for perfection - and not put ourselves in a compromising positon that can cause confusion. You never know, that little bit of confusion may be enough to drive someone away for good! Therefore, we are witnesses to what is being taught; it is privy to get the message out there and keep it 100. There is enough fiction out there (reality shows, Fox News, most rappers' careers) to throw us off the ball. Keep a laser focus on the task at hand. 

IV. Perform due diligence. God has called us into fellowship with Jesus Christ; He didn't intend for us to go it alone. As 1 Corinthians 1:9 states, God is faithful to those who peep game to His instructions. Obviously, studying the Bible is critical toward due diligence; however, not everyone will open a book. Our lifestyle is a better indicator of our witness than standing on the corner of University and Asher street preaching all day only to run off for a nip of Seagrams. A fake life only deters from the actual job we have. 

V. Haters gon' hate. Because we are witnesses to God's everlasting word, we are not only expected to abide by the teachings, but also be prepared for the criticisms coming. This is why we study daily and pray for understanding. My booksmarts may not always get the job done since I may lack a sense of worldliness which could lead me to being hurt. Know that the haters gon' hate, and this is a shame. It's coming - there is a season for it - so get ready. Psalm 22:6-8 reminds us that we will be talked about, have our names falsely dragged through the mud, derisively called names like "goody-two shoes" and "straight-arrow". When we come around, all some folks will do is laugh at us, insult us, or even shake their judgmental heads. If Jesus was talked about, what makes us think we are immune? The taunts are part of our witnessing testimonies; if we never dealt with adversity, then how can I tell you to keep fighting through the mess?

As He was crucified to that cross, Jesus endured more pain that most of us can ever imagine although being black in America comes close. He was stripped, beaten to a pulp, his clothes were gambled for, mocked as the King of the Jews, taunted, hit with rocks and stuff, and so forth. Those Jews were witnesses to bad behavior, and surely some did not care until it was too late while others followed the crowds as dumb lemmings. What kind fo witnesses are we today? Do we float with the things in vogue, or are we sticking to our guns? 

Not Quite Militant, Far From Bourgeois

F**k the happy Negro.

I'm not him, kissin' the master's boot when he offered a scrap of red meat from his elongated table.

Not anymore.

I know I'm entitled to that porterhouse steak in front of him, after busting my ass for free all these years. 

While I'm at it, bring out the finest of wines and put those two baked potatoes over there.

I'm not your black friend, partner!

Today, I'm more like your worst nightmare now that I know how to navigate the system and annihilate you at your own game.

No whispering, stammering, speaking softly, avoiding eye contact today!

Meet your maker motherf**ker! I AM THE HEAD N*GGA IN CHARGE!

Nobody will be able to hear your wails and shrieks,

And when I get through with you, Barbie will be screaming my name as your bed squeaks!

I'm gettin' my forty acres and mule, and if I take that Mercedes too, then all the more merrier!

That is past due, like the bad check your ilk has given us.

"The last shall be first, and the first shall be last!"

How ya like them apples?!!

...meanwhile, on the other side of my mind...

I know better to think like that (aloud); better leave some things in my vivid imagination.

My life is pretty good, I suppose: near-perfect credit, happy wife, kid, house with white picket fence, good neighbors, private schools, and the police can be relied upon to do the right thing. 

See? There's an American flag hanging from the flagpole, not one of Africa!

I can't imagine living in the ghetto, going from hand to mouth having to rob Peter to pay Paul or...gasp? Selling drugs!

That's what those thugs do, with their jeans sagging and dreadlocked heads.

I hope they grow up and shave. No one's going to give them a job looking like that. 

Oh, goodness! Don't the folks down the street know how to use a poop scooper? My lawn is not meant for dogs to do their business and have it left behind for me to step into.

Well, I don't have to hear all of that infernal racket shaking my Pella windows out of their foundation nor see all of those Skittles-colored Chevrolets parked on the grass up and down this cul-de-sac.

Needless to say, life is pretty gosh darned good. If only the newspaper would actually land in my driveway...

...in reality...

As much as I may want to backhand my boss, I do realize that I need this job to pay for our lifestyle.

That sometimes means doing things I don't care for, like shaving my beard, cutting the afro, or perpetuating a tired idea. 

Little does he know that my inner Malcolm X is raging daily, and quite intimidating to the average man. 

Being affable is not a license to live as if nothing bad has ever happened to me. 

My cousin put it best:  Being militant doesn't get the bills paid. You have to grow up and know when to use your might. 

It's okay to be ethnocentric, just not a supremacist. That's not cool.

I know my daily struggle and am eternally appreciative of it; without it, I wouldn't know what to do through the storms.

So, say it loud!

I'M BLACK AND I'M PROUD!

30 Days of Blessings

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've seen the daily postings of what you guys have been thankful for, so I decided that I'd share my 30 Days of Blessings with you.

1. I'm thankful for my God keeping me here this long.

2. I'm also blessed to have a wife that loves me unconditionally and has put up with my baloney for this long without looking to exit stage left.

3. I am thankful for our home. It may seem like a lot of space for two people, but nonetheless, it's the place we call home - and raise a family - as well as make lifelong memories. Outdoor kitchen is hopefully coming in spring.

4. I am appreciative of my job. At times I may come off as ungrateful and I am certainly not a fan of the night shift, Rineco does a pretty decent job of paying the bills and providing darn good health insurance.

5. I am thankful for my car. Despite my Fusion having more miles on it than the Santa Fe that was totaled in May, it has been extremely reliable and gets better miles per gallon than the SUV.

6. I feel gratitude to all who have come before me to pave the way, and when the future asks for advice. The fact I can pass on wise words is enough in itself.

7. I'm grateful for discernment. Not everything that happens in my life is front-page news, nor should it ever be.

8. I'm thankful for my family (the ones I was born with as well as the ones I married into). Through the disagreements, drama, and all, we still have each other's backs.

9. I'm thankful for being shown the true colors and characters of so many people I once considered friends. Since we don't have marquees on our foreheads detailing the types of people who come around, it is also a great thing knowing what I do know now about some of them.

10. I am thankful for quiet time and knowing what to do with it.

11. I am blessed each time I see and/or talk to you.

12. On a sports note: I'm overjoyed that both of my pro teams (Miami Heat, Boston Red Sox) are world champions again. Imagine what would happen if Henderson State wins the Division II crown in football this season.

13. I'm blessed when the seasons change - and being able to see all four of them.

14. I'm thankful that everything in this house is in full working order and that we didn't start out in an all-out remodeling/replacing war.

15. I'm blessed to have such wonderful friends in my life. You know who you are, so I won't start name-dropping.

16. I'm thankful for a certain sense of wit. Not everything is so serious that a laugh cannot diffuse it unless there is a weapon in front of you.

17. I'm more than blessed that my neighbors aren't rednecks. Being black in Saline County, you don't know how much that means to me.

18. I'm grateful for actually implementing financial wisdom. One day we'll be debt-free, but that is one small step at a time.

19. I'm thankful that my mom taught me how to cook so many years ago. All fast food does is empty my pockets.

20. I'm blessed to be able to share my life's testimony with so many via this blog and anywhere I may go. I hope it is a help more than a hindrance to you.

21. I'm thankful for my dad who has always had my back - and for showing me what it really means to be a man.

22. I'm grateful that my only sibling and I get along as well as we do now. That's what growing up and now living two hours apart can do for you. #weallwegot

23. I am appreciative of the public servants who are doing the right things to make our lives safer and a better place than we found it. I'm talking about firefighters, law enforcement, educators, sanitation workers, and all who work tirelessly through budget cuts and a population so averse to taxes.

24. I'm grateful not to work for Walmart anymore. The company is great for some - I admit I still shop there at times - but I no longer have to perform miracles in the pets department for a 50 cent raise. There are some things the company can do better, but I'm just a customer.

25. I'm thankful for my exes. Without them, I would have never known the gem of a wife I have, and how much of a douche I was to them.

26. I'm blessed to be a part of a progressive church that is "just my size". No one wants to associate themselves with dead, and that includes the house of worship.

27. I'm indebted to all of you in one way, shape, form, or fashion. As no man is an island, I thank you for letting me lean on you.

28. I'm thankful for the Thanksgiving Day spread. I'm sure JC Penney will agree when I have to get another pair of Levi's and a belt after overeating.

29. I am content most of the time, especially on vacation. One day I may get to retire and buy that condo in Ocean Springs so I can fish off the piers all day long.

30. I'm thankful for having been able to travel as much as I have had and knowing that the world encompasses more than the one hundred miles of my birthplace.

 There ya have it, 30 Days of Blessings. I don't want to inundate people with online postings, so here they are at one time.

Wives, Do Your Part

Ephesians 5:21-24
(in continuation of Sex & Sinners series)
The difference between saint and sinner is that the saint has accepted Jesus as Savior. You know there is a grace that keeps you through the day. God has expectations for us regarding how we live; we don't have it all. There are days that my little light may be used to burn you.

V. 21. Submitting one to another.  
You fall in line when instructions are given to you. In the military, you work top down leadership - the generals tell the coloniels, etc; in the Christian perspective,  you work as a team player. When you yoke yourself to the wrong train, you're apt to travel the wrong direction. When God speaks of wives, this is man & woman NOT two dudes (top and bottom), nor two chicks.

V. 22. Wives, submit to your own husbands.  It is imperative that women find THEIR OWN men, not the ones who are already taken. It shouldn't be as difficult as it seems to be with women being alpha dogs.

V. 23. Husbands are the heads of their wives. Like Christ is the head of the church, the husband is the head of the household. By learning to serve, obey, adore, etc., couples parallel the models in the church.

V. 24. Be in submission to everything. 
You've been forewarned about being unequally yoked by God. Commit this day forward to understanding the role of wife and appreciate more than just the benefits. 

Know Thy Neighbor

You can be a good neighbor only if you have good neighbors. -Howard E. Koch 

Love thy neighbor. pic.twitter.com/kkM9gz6N9l

— A. Cedric Armstrong (@cedteaches) November 24, 2015

A question was presented to the listeners of a popular radio station recently: Is it important to know your neighbors in this day and age? Do you know your neighbors? I've taken the liberty to looking at both sides of this coin, and if you know me well enough, you know which road we ended up travelling. The advantages and disadvantages of knowing your neighbors can make all of the difference - and even impact your lifestyle. 

The advantages of knowing your neighbors are the need to know the types of people around you; which families have children of a similar age to your own that they can play with; serves as a lookout; camaraderie; a sense of belonging; and being acutely aware of events, a "secret society" feel. Knowing the neighbors means that you get a pretty decent idea of the character types; if the people across the street are meticulous with yard work, they can serve as an unspoken peer pressure for you to keep up the lawn and protect property values. On the contrary, they could simply park their cars all over the grass and throw their trash everywhere as if the world is their private landfill. For families, the assurance that their children can make friends without having to drive across town to the park or the Boys & Girls Club means that they could have a place to crash after school until a parent picks them up. The kids may even become best friends based on the communities they live in! Another advantage of knowing the neighbors is serving as a lookout for suspicious activities throughout the neighborhood. If you're on vacation, you want to know that someone is looking out for your home while you are away and everything is safe and sound upon returning. No one wants to come home after a relaxing week at the beach to a ransacked house because no one bothered to remain vigilant while you were out. The next advantages are camaraderie and a sense of belonging. Life is so much better when you get along with the people next door or across the street in that you're more apt to carry on a conversation and share life events with them such as block parties, births, and shared yard sales. You take pride being a part of the community because you have skin in others' lives. The final advantage of knowing your neighbors is being acutely aware of events and the local gossip, a "secret society" feel. You know who is crazy, who the party animals at the end of the cul de sac are, and where the kids who TP'd your oak tree live. 

However, some people think it is unimportant to know the neighbors. Common reasons are we do not have time for other people at the end of the work day; all they are doing is waving from the lawn; welfare concerns; physically look different from the rest of the neighborhood; that life seems outdated; and this is what social media is for. In our fast-paced lives, the last thing we want to do is have to deal with someone making an impromptu - and sometimes inappropriate - visit. After a long day at work, the couch is the place to be, not conversing with the woman next door about her petunias and how the world is changing for the worse daily. Waving at the folks who pass by your house may seem harmless, but maybe you just aren't particularly outgoing. Their friendliness comes across to you as fake, yet it makes you feel like you've landed into a scene from Pleasantville where everyone is overly polite in their own little world. The third reason to take pause in getting to know the neighbors is for welfare concerns. Every town has sketchy people, and if you haven't met them, keep living. They may be just a little off, but their eccentricities are enough for you to be put off. For example, the Oompas two doors down only come outside to move their cars or load up to eat at the nearby pizzeria every Tuesday night. They may not be sketchy people after all, but maybe someone saw them scratching their behinds in public before or host Wiccan ceremonies at home. Strange, but I wouldn't call that sketchy; having a rapist next door with my teenage daughters in the bedroom with an easy windowsill to sneak in/out of is an instant cause of concern. Looking physically different from the neighbors is also a reason not to get to know them albeit a silly one. Being the token minorities in a majority neighborhood can be intimidating, and if no one is accepting of you, it is easy to stay inside and keep to yourselves. Again, this is something you would typically pay attention to during the house hunt, but if not, it can cause unneeded worry and additional stress that something evil could happen at this house. The next reason why some people think it is not important to know your neighbors is that taking the time to meet and greet the people nearby seems outdated as if doing so means you are living in a different era. It could also mean that you are remaining guarded because of past treatment from a former neighbor or someone you were close to betrayed you in one way or another. Feelings are important, yet it doesn't mean keep everything bottled up on the inside. Lastly, people think it does not matter if they ever see their neighbors thanks to social media. Most of us are on at least one social site (Facebook, Twitter, Foursquare, Google+, etc) and for much of the day, we engage ourselves in conversations with our friends and sometimes not even know they live in the same place as you. That sense of community does not matter since I see you online all of the time, so why should I come over to chat with you?

We did get to know the neighbors on both sides of our house as well as the ones across the street and behind us. While we do not constantly hang around each other, I know that they have our backs and vice versa; as for the neighbors behind us, we know where the party is by the number of people standing on their deck. My worries were relieved once we got to know them (hey, none of them are sketchy!) and after four months, we feel like we fit right on in with the rest of the subdivision. Your decision to introduce yourselves to the neighbors is completely up to know; I just have to know who the people that live next door to me are and what kinds of people they are. 

On Being Told I Don't Speak Like A Black Person (Story of My Life)

Emphasize the "th" in "brother", 
- it's not pronounced "brudder" - 
is what I learned in elementary school
where my redheaded second grade teacher
fawned over me as if I were her own son.
Trained in Fayetteville, she attempted
to pass on her passion of all things Razorback and 
simultaneously eradicate any semblance of negro dialect
primarily to push an unspoken agenda. 
Even in her forties, she kinda resembled a Juilanne Hough
type, always smiling in her own matronly way.
I somehow speak with more of a midwesterner's tongue
instead of the broken southern negro accent associated with
my neighborhood
my community
my classmates
my friends
my playmates.
Inflections were flattened;
a slightly nasal sound was substituted for the starting singy-songy sentences.
During those days no one told me (to my face) to eliminate that voice
perhaps they were amazed by the newly discovered intellect
and all wanted credit for finally getting me to open my mouth. 
It was only in junior high when I realized I sounded differently; 
thanks, cuzzo, for telling me I sound like a damn white boy.
I was ever so observant, inquisitive to a fault 
that once my a-ha! moment of awareness struck
i didn't sound like anyone black the other guys hung out with.
So here I am, entering a social crisis.
No way I could possibly sound like I was from Wisconsin or Illinois
when the extent of my travels were weekend trips to Texas
and DC in middle school. 
What others laughed at me about
besides my infamous red Urkel glasses
besides not having a negro sound
besides my limited athletic skill/ability
(remember, I was an intellectual heavyweight in the making)
besides the perfect fit levis that showed how much smaller
i was relative to everyone else
was how clueless I was in matters of the larger world. 
Suddenly, the summertime gangsters and rising hoops stars
jeered me as an oreo, a sellout.
I didn't want to be white, I just wanted to be accepted.
Then i knew black wasn't it for me. They knew
what black people sounded like from the movies
and in living color
and rap music
and I wasn't it. 
Am I supposed to break cardinal grammar rules, slur
my tongue as if it were tied up by shock tarts and twizzlers> or 
better yet, novacaine from the medicine cabinet?
Oh, I'm supposed to drop syllables, leave
fragmented words hanging from a cliff
were certain terms, phrases too proper
too academic, too articulate for someone who looked like me?
Exasperated, I inquired "what do you mean?" only  to
receive derisive laughs toward me.
you're such a white boy
you need to quit being a scary nerd
you should learn some, you know, Black English.
Does everyone in your family
speak alike? no offense to you or anything.
you're different. you're not black
like us.
did you grow up someplace else?
nothing means more to a person than 
his speech, so why shall I defend my tone?
Simply listen, prize the varying voices which differ
night from day without assuming
how any person will sound
until his mouth opens
until her mouth opens
until their silence shatters through
greetings in any language.

Jesus Is My Status, Not Facebook

This post consists of notes from when our associate minister Aaron preached way back on January 13. As always, study for yourself and don't buy into the hype. 

1 Timothy 1:8-10, 13-16

Aaron goes into the text as an introduction to Facebook. Status is what you according to your interests; in Paul's words, he considers it what you really are. Use the law wisely to ALL of the commandments, not just ones you feel are beneficial to your situations. 
Anyone can be saved! It's not that hard. Christ had to die in order for us to live (remember John 3:16?)
The Gospel is a divine plan according to Scripture. Everything Jesus did, He knew AND referenced scripture! So why go contrary?
Achievement? His life was for us. 
Free offer? I <3 free .99
Enjoyment of fellowship in turn = good news
Status: after things happen, we typically take to FB or Twitter. 

The Case for American Exceptionalism

Not to sound like a professional lecturer, but I'm proud to be an American. 

Just so you'd know. 

Are we a perfect people?

Of course not, but what we stand for is what unites us. 

I don't need some damn symbol of a flag, apple pie, baseball, or some French lady holding a torch welcoming the tired masses to know what I am honored to be...

Notice I didn't use the word blessed.

I'm black - and the last time I was pulled over by the cops, I was quickly reminded of said fact.

I know my way out of your lily-white town, sir, you don't have to follow me with guns drawn out at me and my little old car all the way to the city limits sign.

I understand that I'm not welcome, so I shall put deuces to this place, a reminder of Mayberry. 

I'm proud of my heritage:

The one of the struggle, the one that indicates that there is so much more work to do, the one that pushes me to think that I'm a part of the shining beacon on the hill, and yes, even that others are envious of my lot.  

I don't know what for. 

Having to spend my life shattering your stereotypes of African-American males is tiresome; we're not all pant-sagging thugs who can run, jump, shoot, and want to impregnate Becky or Mary Ellen.

Neither of them are my type.

What frustrates me when I see the words "American exceptionalism" is the aforementioned Rockwellian images that a few people tend to run with.

You make me feel like a bastard stepchild in my own family.

Am I supposed to fight your wars and kowtow to the symbols when I'm the last hired, first fired?

Enamored of what others worldwide see on TV when I can barely keep the water on and feed my child?

Are you kidding me?

However, I live in a place where the rest of the world looks upon us as a role model for its own people, if you haven't referenced other nations' constitutions and their desire for a democracy.

This also should explain why so many international students attend OUR universities, McDonald's is in over one hundred countries, and when their leaders get in trouble, we are the first to be called upon. 

Not last, THE FIRST.

So you think I'm not beating my chest? Watch the Summer Olympics during any Leap Year.

USA! USA! USA!

Where else can I freely choose my next President without having my entire family massacred for not supporting the government's choice?

Only in America!

In the end, we are exceptional not because of where we were born, but because of what our common ideas bring to an infinite number and having the right to disagree. 

Toldja America is an exceptional place, and I'm proud to be an American. 

Remember...the things we make, make us.

Innovation is in our bloodline, as are initiative and a certain strong ethic to be greater than the sum of our parts. 

I'm proud to be American, and that is what makes me exceptional.

When The Neighbors Make Up

My Bach trumpet's mouth is contrite.
We both shed alligator tears

To the Love Jones soundtrack. Louis Armstrong 
misses his wife. It hurts

To know the music means we 
need to clean up. The repainted walls

Tell a sordid tale. Tears can purify
the heart. Even your tender

Kisses ache. Louis Armstrong
misses his wife. It's muted

On my iPod, the moments betwixt
fighting and fucking. The wall

Moans in silence. The horn vibrates
C, B flat, D, back to C again.

Your tongue teases my right
earlobe. Louis Armstrong 

Misses his wife. No one called
til after the battery

Stopped. Our hearts and dueling 
horns. Both horns are work.

At rest. Mike and Ally are
barely breathing. You open 

My shirt like French doors
to passion. I am rigid

As an erect muscle. Mouth on the penis
beneath the curly hairs

This is the best pleasure,
make up sex. 

One Dollar, One Dream

all i have are one dollar and a dream.

it isn't much, but for me, it's all the opportunity i need

to break out of the rat race

and create a better life for my family.

i'm livin' on a hope and a prayer

that God keeps taking care of us, opening padlocked doors

because...

all i have is faith.