Sunday, January 28, 2018

Martin, Environmentalist

One thing that gets slept on about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is that the civil rights leader was quite the environmentalist. Most of our friends and associates in both the public and private spheres were so quick to quote something from the “I Have a Dream” speech each January 15th yet marginalize the context of his own words and actions the other 364 days of the year. Certainly it is true that Brother Martin departed this life a poor man – advancing black causes tends to thin out the pockets of its primary advocates – but the larger takeaway is the fallacy that money alone does not matter as we pillage our way into untold profits is nowhere near the principle of Leave No Trace, which merely means leave the world a better place than we found it. After all, our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

“A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual doom…Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men.”

As the American government sets its budget annually, why is it that the Pentagon gets an obscene amount of loot yet the day-to-day social programs get short shrift and blamed for the deficit? Is annihilation of a darker-hued people a larger priority and protection of whiteness by default (and American exceptionalism) at all costs than following through the basic promise of symbolizing a shining beacon the rest of the world can only hope to emulate? What does that say to the hungry families who have only the churches to rely upon for sustenance?  Are the disabled among us simply throwaway citizens? As a bonus question, what is the real reason for propping up Israel for the past seventy years knowing it has the world’s second strongest military after our own as we tell children to buck up and deal with the hardscrabble circumstances they were born into not limited to citizenry? I’d like to think we all have the right to live in a clean and healthy environment; imagine having to stand outside at the bus stop wearing a respirator or not being able to swim in the same now-murky creeks our parents skinny-dipped in as children.



Consider the Memphis sanitation workers’ strike just days before his assassination in 1968. On its face, King was advocating for equal pay for black and white sanitation workers in Memphis as evidenced by the I Am a Man signs the marching crowd wore in protest of their substandard living conditions and pitiful work environments.



Understand we do not have a concrete set of statements either expanding or dispelling King’s own environmental stance for the movement took off after his death. Ecological thinking – the precursor to the green movement we all know, like, and occasionally loathe depending on the Toyota Prius driver doing 10 below in the left lane – was in its infancy and reserved in the ivory towers of academia prior to the Nixon White House establishing the EPA a few years later welcoming green technology and society to the mainstream where it was formerly marginalized by hippie culture. Beyond the Clean Water Act, Clean Air Act, the Endangered Species Act, the National Environmental Policy Act which all makes environmental concerns mandatory for major actions undertaken or permitted by the federal government and guarantees that all public environmental concerns will be heard.




What if I told you environmental quality was also interrelated to an inescapable network of mutuality regarding the locations of our landfills, chemical waste management facilities, and industrial parks in towns large and small? Hear me out.

When cities seek locations for landfills, where do they typically end up? In rural or impoverished areas away from current population growth, or among the less affluent and/or where other historically discriminated citizens reside. Eventually, sprawl happens, and those dumps end up moving further and further to the outskirts to another poor area until the two are forced to coexist. In Florida, I recently noticed that on one side of the Florida Turnpike was a landfill albeit neatly manicured in appearance and across the toll road, a nature preserves for the most endangered creatures indigenous to the southern part of the Sunshine State.  In many areas, that dump would cause homeowners’ property values to drop – who would want to live next to last week’s garbage? Only those who were redlined into the area or unable to afford housing elsewhere, that’s who.

In the grand scheme of things, everything matters. Who would want to eat three-eyed catfish caught from parts of the Saline River or hunt bulletproof deer that roam the riverside for their survival if we are dumping waste indiscriminately only because doing the right thing is more trouble than simply leaving trash where we litter?
How does this explain places like Flint and Mound Bayou and any other community of color that has a disproportionate percentage of poisoned water supply in the name of profit as city, state, and corporate leaders sit by idly reaping the fruits of job creation or time has forgotten about and the resources necessary to maintain a decent filtration system have dried up?

“Never, never be afraid to do what’s right, especially if the well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society’s punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.”

Then we have light pollution, which we all are guilty of to one extent or another. When was the last time we went outside to pitch-black darkness and only saw the moon and stars? For the sake of our health, do we even shut down our bodies long enough to get proper rest despite those bright blue smartphone screens that inevitably keep us awake much longer than necessary? Maybe this is a reason why some of us clamor to exit the grid and live simply. Since we do have to share Planet Earth as a temporary home, the least we can do is take care of it; in King’s view, it would be foolhardy to integrate schools or lunch counters if the same concern were not exhibited toward the survival of the world in which to be integrated.

We will never know the extent of King’s positions regarding the environment as he was not only taken too soon from us but also those opinions were not as fully formed into a context we all can understand as the famed civil rights stances. What we do recognize is he maintained more than a basic understanding of how the world and its inhabitants (man, animal, plants, etc.) are all intertwined to ideally make this place work smoothly as God intended, and even within his own sermons, had the uncanny knack of connecting the dots to express a related issue of the day. In this context it could be appropriate to add environmentalist to the list of descriptors of the greatest American of the past one hundred years.













Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Jesus the Social Justice Warrior

One of the greatest debates in the 21st Century has been the role of Jesus within Jewish society and the Biblical interpretation of His own capabilities regarding justice; depending on the framing of the congregation which we may worship in, Jesus has been viewed as either a deliverer or a shining example of pulling one up from his own bootstraps – rather, sandals. It has also often been stated that the co-opting of Christ is what has driven so many of our youth and emerging adults away from the Church due to how the lowercase churches routinely mistreat and dismiss them either shortly after graduating from high school or at the latest, their early twenties when they see the hypocrisies of religion for the first time leaving them so shaken they avoid the tax-free havens of outward piety and ostentatious worship centers permanently. Yet they seek something more noteworthy in their lives as Jesus’s birth, life, death, resurrection, and eventual ascension represented some two millennia ago.

When one hears the term social justice warrior, or SJW, what is the average stereotype? The pejorative term is defined as a person who expresses or promotes socially progressive views by repeatedly and vehemently in arguments on social justice via internet, often in a shallow or not well-thought manner solely for raising his or her own reputation. Because a passion – or life’s work – has not been fully identified, the young warrior climbs on every hill in protest not knowing the systemic manner of how justice is meted unequally. Recall the Occupy movement earlier this decade which gave the rise/reintroduction of Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders to the national limelight:  The same twentysomethings who were protesting wealth disparity with 1 > 99 bumper stickers on hybrid cars were exerting their political influence in addition to following a prime lesson Jesus was teaching the Jews the first time around in Matthew 26:11.



Understand shaming the poor is anathema to everything in the Gospel as fortune, fame, and prestige comes and goes. One can build a house of straw, and at the first gust of wind, that house falls apart. Why is that? Earthly treasures are not meant for us to live for alone; as the little pig who built the straw house learned, nothing without a firm foundation is going to last long. Ditto for those who build their names and affluence on the backs of the less poor and disadvantaged. In this context, SJWs are no better than the Pharisees and Romans they intend to castigate when we look at their own braggadocio as they talk loud but stay in the house when it is time to clock in for work. Their ideologies do parallel that of the “Jesus Freaks” and “Promise Keepers” from the 1990s in the sense of being simultaneously overly zealous and surprisingly superficial.

To those people, Jesus reminds us collectively that we cannot have it both ways. The Book of Matthew explicitly outlines the reason why in Chapter 6:  a confused soul is one who loves the ideas that come with social justice yet yearns to maintain the trappings of a privileged existence. Consider the plight of Nicodemus the dashing young ruler who had heard Jesus teaching and was so intrigued he met with Him at night only to depart saddened when he was told to surrender his worldly treasures to come follow Him.


No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one, and love the other, or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. Matthew 6:24

But didn’t Jesus flip over the moneychangers’ tables?

Or touch the leper, healing him in contrast to expulsion for immorality?

Or talk with the Samaritan woman about her faith publicly at the fountain during midday?

Did He say He is here for the poor and oppressed?

Did He anger the political elites when He declared God as sovereign and solely worthy of worship over Caesar in the polytheistic era?

Would He refer to the Religious Right as a brood of vipers?

Did He feed five thousand people with two fish and a few loaves of bread?

Lastly, did He heal someone on the Sabbath?

Matter of fact, Jesus did all of that and then some. To say Christ is a social justice warrior alone is a gross understatement and misses the point of His soul-saving existence. Jesus was the King of the Jews but let us forget He was mocked, ridiculed, spat upon, and sentenced to death by crucifixion!


What I have found is the version of Jesus Christ that people tend to disagree with is the one that does not assuage their wee feelings. “My God is nice, sanctimonious, and He wouldn’t do such things as being a rabble-rouser!” Child, please! What they are looking for is a sad-looking Caucasian sugar daddy with long hair to excuse their imperialistic tendencies of supremacy and justify the status quo just so they can make it to the nearest Applebee’s by noon each Sunday. With the perception of Christians being a bit soft, it does more than rock the boat when His followers express anger or in the case of black Americans over the course of the past hundred years or so, nonviolent protests (see Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Colin Kaepernick, as examples) are met by the vilest of white Christianity so uncomfortable when injustice is brought face to face. Our Lord and Savior knew this was part of taking on a physical form that certain death was imminent – and in a few days as we observe Brother Martin’s birthdate and life, most Americans will recite his now-whitewashed “I Have a Dream” speech without any respect to the complexities of the principalities and spiritual wickedness he fought that some days seem in vain thanks to the Trump Administration, Congress, and most state Legislatures across the country rolling back the few advances made. Even in the more presumed socially progressive climes, few things strike fear like seeing a small group (three or more) black men exercising their First Amendment rights – ask their real opinions of Black Lives Matter and I bet you’ll get the contrived answers from Fox News that it is a terrorist organization instead of our generation’s civil rights movement for demanding accountability within law enforcement and the legal system!

Turning up didn't apply to all Americans

The Christian rapper Lecrae spoke of the historical context within the picture on his social media accounts (either Twitter or Instagram, I’m not certain anymore) and was immediately called a racist and SJW, among other labels proving that even his blackness supersedes the Gospel in the minds of his onetime followers.

If you desire to push the issue further, ask which Israel is referred to as God’s chosen people – the one in the Old Testament namely the days of Moses’s exodus from Egypt, or those inhabitants of the right-wing state established in 1948 with America’s help.

Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy. Proverbs 31:9

I was going to find a supporting example of how Jesus was not a social justice warrior, but you know what? My Father which art in Heaven is a deliverer, and to say otherwise is a clear contradiction of not only my own faith but also the words we sing out of mouths every single Sunday morning. As often as we sing the words from Charles Jenkins’s “Awesome”, it would be quite the hypocritical travesty if we placed conditions on how we acknowledge God for delivering us from one situation or another as judge while others prioritize street (and today, social media) justice to mete out their preferred brand of fairness; providing for us in our most destitute moments; curing the seemingly impossible ailments of the world such as leprosy, smallpox in most of the developed world, and working the minds of talented pharmacists and chemists to invent solutions for a better quality of life; protector of the poor and disadvantaged in a climate which favors the overly well-heeled privileged; and a host of other superlatives. Furthermore, African-Americans Christians who are so frequently praised for their willingness to forgive even the worst of offenders (see Dylann Roof) have endured the worst of slavery; Jim Crow segregation; capital punishments for seemingly minor and often falsified offenses (read: looking a white person in the eye or sharing a sidewalk); a justice and political system blatantly slanted against us for 399 years; and some of the more covert aspects of white supremacy not limited to the Talented Tenth principle.

This also included the culturally-driven motto instilled by our parents to become “twice as good as them to get half of what they have” not for recognition but for basic survival.

In 2018 terms, would Jesus side with those without family health insurance, or those who voted to take away access from the less fortunate?

Does the 1% really need another tax cut when time and time again, the small business owners who have formed the middle-class struggle to stay afloat?

Where are the landfills located in most communities? Why does Flint still have dirty water?

Who do our representatives serve, the people or their financial backers?

What brand of the Gospel is being espoused in the church today, the original words of Christ or the bastardized American Christianity version defending white supremacy?


For those who are offended by SJWs, what is your idea of equality? The gradual kind like the South has allegedly attempted since Brown v. the Board of Education? Or maybe the “sit in the corner like a good colored boy and we’ll get to it. We take care of our own” coded phrase which means we get the leftovers, if anything at all as they suckle the government’s teat until it shrivels.

The next time people question if Jesus was a social justice warrior, kindly remind them He was hated for speaking the truth about the powers-that-be and preaching love instead of overthrowing Caesar and the Holy Roman Empire. An unsung teaching of Christ – which was also applicable to black America as recently as 1968 – was to excel within the frameworks of the law; just as the Jews paid taxes to Caesar as they were lawfully required to do (see Matthew 22:21 or Romans 13:1), self-sufficient black communities thrived in the face of American racism often to the chagrin of those in prominence (Tulsa, Rosewood). Once we take respectability politics out of the equation, we grow a greater appreciation of how we have been delivered from spiritual wickedness in the highest of places as well as the daily struggles suffered and tangible proof of this has manifested itself throughout American history from President Lincoln signing the Emancipation Proclamation to the Supreme Court ending segregation and for one blustery November 2008 night, the election victory of now-former President Obama culminating the dreams of so many of our elders and ancestors.

Modern SJWs would be better served by learning and following the example of the ultimate social justice warrior Jesus Christ who did not need the verbal affirmations at every corner nor bask in the puffery we occasionally fall for calling it Kingdom Building nor did He thrive on slamming His critics alone without providing a teachable moment.












Sunday, December 31, 2017

Good Riddance to 2017

I must admit 2017 was a very difficult year but by the grace of God, we made it!

From my employer being sold to an out-of-state conglomerate to finding out I am diabetic, this has been a particularly challenging year. Of course, let us not forget what happened January 20 when Donald Trump was sworn in as the 45th President of the United States on a stack of Bibles as the grifting began and racists felt emboldened to say whatever they wanted without consequence; many of us have taken extended breaks from social media because we just can’t clap back on every single troll or bot without wasting valuable emotional and spiritual energy for the larger war.

I really don’t remember much exciting about January, and what I can recall, is none of your business.

February led to the usual Black History Month posts on Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and of course, the blog yet this is also the month I found out I am diabetic. Years of eating like a kid not limited to devouring cases of honey buns have led me to a daily regimen of pills along with the overdue need to start exercising daily. One awesome thing happened:  my dad and Caeli shared a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese! What a place for him to celebrate turning 70 years old for a birthday party – why not do it at the same time as his only granddaughter’s second birthday with the rest of the family this time?

Locally, the church moved back home from a completed restoration! Thanks be to God, the contractors, congregation, staff, and everyone who had a hand involved in the nearly six-month-long project.

On March 1 Heritage Environmental Services bought Rineco for an undisclosed sum. So far, all it has meant was the 300+ of us still have jobs.

In April, we got to see our friends Will and Misty in Helena-West Helena as they opened the Freeman Playground in memory of their son Freeman – and Caeli’s first friend from the NICU. Of course, it seems like every time I make that drive down Highway 49, it is always raining. Fortunately for us, no squirrel decided to take his own life by riding the car’s wheel this time and I didn’t have to have a discussion over a parked red car. Because we really didn’t stray from home much, this was easily the longest trip by car the three of us made all year.

May was a harbinger of 2017 at large:  forgettable save Caeli’s first trip to the zoo and the Africa Day festival in SOMA.

As an omen that 2017 may not be that shabby, June marked two significant events:  Caeli got her ears pierced, and I was ordained as a deacon at our church. I have the piercing video up on a different blog – hats off to the ladies working at Claire’s that weekend for keeping our little trooper distracted long enough for her to not slap them both away. As for my ordination, I want to thank God, everyone who pastored me over the years and the older deacons I learned something from, Chastity and Caeli for sticking with what became a three-year process that periodically frustrated me, Mount Zion for seeing it in an outsider to serve them in the ways of 1 Timothy 3:1-14, and my home church Greater Friendship for showing up. Had Rev. Johnson tripped me up when I was being charged, we might have had to put the gloves on and gone outside.

I finally found some semblance of a normal life in July when our new Delta V was hired! Thanks to Conner, I got to find out weekend life was like for the first time in a few years – and that led to purchasing the signing for the church’s food pantry:  On the very first Saturday after we placed them throughout the southside of Benton, we began to experience such a surge of clients as volunteers and members alike saw Kingdom building at work that we had to shut it down after ninety minutes! Sadly, my uncle Earl (Dad’s brother) passed away at the age of 81 from pneumonia.

Mama Bear decided I was worth sticking around with for another year, so we celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary August 6 in a much louder venue than we anticipated (Sidebar:  Texas Roadhouse is a good place for a quiet meal said no one ever). Next year, the planning ahead will be a LOT better. In unrelated news, 45 decreed that that there were good people on both sides in the Charlottesville clash between protestors and the alt-right leading up to a woman losing her life and a man severely beaten. Caeli also graduated from Kidsource to a few months of playing with grandma until she eventually got into preschool.

When September came around, Dub Shack BBQ had started making its rounds via word of mouth while I began to figure out pricing and the margins of profitability that comes with barbecue catering. With a handful of pork loin dinners, I made enough money and gained confidence in the consistency of my own product that I could do well in this market. Remember my coming out of the diabetic closet? I’ve lost forty pounds this year without trying very hard – I’ve begun to drink more water, exercise a bit, and continue the medical regimen; imagine the difference if I had driven (or walked) five blocks down the street to the gym regularly.

October was a nostalgic trip down Memory Lane. No, I didn’t go to Henderson State’s homecoming this year; instead I went home for my 20th class reunion from Conway High the same weekend. Finding out from so many classmates that AD&AD has practically become required reading has provided a source of encouragement for me to continue the literary craft. I’d still be cool with an impromptu pop-up in a park or somewhere, Class of ’97 except great barbecue has to be smoked ahead of time. Apart from being a Wampus Cat, my grandma turned 90 years old October 14 and she was feted by multiple generations of my mom’s side of the family. We’re talking Kings from across the country taking over Gould, Arkansas for a weekend.

November saw Chastity turn the big 4-0 with the BIG CHOP, and Caeli also began preschool. For the unaware, the BIG CHOP is when all that unnatural perm gets cut from a black woman’s hair as she goes natural.

Although the calendar cannot turn quickly enough to 2018 in some aspects, December had some noticeable moments:  my 39th birthday, Christmas with the better and little CAs, we named our church’s next pastor, and the unforeseen effects of the GOP tax bill.

Maybe this hasn’t been that rough of a year despite the pay cut and the odds against us. Thanks for riding and praying with us throughout 2017, and for those who won’t make it to 2018 with any relationship to me, you know why.

Take care of yourselves – and each other.





Saturday, December 30, 2017

Joyous Kwanzaa! Habari Gani?


What is Kwanzaa?

Kwanzaa is a weeklong celebration held in the United States and in other nations of the African diaspora in the Americas honoring African heritage in African-American culture from December 26 to January 1 culminating in a feast and gift-giving. According to founder Maulana Karenga, the name Kwanzaa derives from the Swahili phrase matunda ya kwanzaa, meaning “first fruits of the harvest”, although it has been shortened to “first fruits”. The choice of Swahili, a native East African language, reflects its status as a symbol of Pan-Afrikanism although most of the Atlantic slave trade which brought people to the Western Hemisphere originated in west Africa. The seven-day season has its roots in the Black nationalist movement of the 1960s and established to help African-Americans reconnect to their cultural roots by uniting in mediation and study of African traditions and Nguzo Saba, the seven principles of African heritage.

What seven principles of Kwanzaa do we celebrate amid a world that loves materialism and sets it eyes on greenbacks, entertainment, possessions, and tribalism as its idols?

• Umoja (Unity):  To strive for and maintain unity in the family, community, nation, and race.
• Kujichaguila (Self-Determination):  To define and name ourselves as well as to create and speak for ourselves.
• Ujima (Collective Work and Responsibility):  To build and maintain our community together and make our brothers’ and sisters’ problems our issues and to solve them together.
• Ujamaa (Cooperative economics):  To build and maintain our stores, shops, and other businesses and to profit from them together.
• Nia (Purpose):  To make our collective vocation the building and developing of our community to restore our people to their traditional greatness.
• Kuumba (Creativity):  To do always as much as we can, in the way we can to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it.
• Imani (Faith):  To believe with all our hearts in our people, our parents, our teachers, our leaders, and the righteousness and victory of our struggle.



To those trapped in the sunken place or simply unaware among us, this sounds just like socialism. In a capitalistic society such as ours, it is often wondered why some of us simply cannot pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps when they made it against all odds AND the larger group supporting them. Kwanzaa refocuses the misconception that capitalism – rather, the pursuit of the American Dream – is anathema to promoting community. For Karenga, the creation of such holidays also underscored an essential premise that you must have a cultural revolution before the violent revolution by providing an identity, purpose, and direction.

How do we celebrate Kwanzaa besides rocking our dashikis and laying kente cloth on our kitchen tables and couches?

Kwanzaa is a family activity – we all find a need to remember the ancestors on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. In addition to the decorations below, ceremonies may include drumming and musical selections, food and drinks, a reading of the African Pledge and the Principles of Blackness, reflection on Team RBG (the Pan-Afrikan colors red, black and green), a discussion of the African principle of the day or a chapter in African history and a candle-lighting ritual.

Families decorate their households with the following symbols:  mkeka (mat) on which other symbols are placed; a kinara (candle holder), mishumaa saba (seven candles, one for each day and principle), mazao (crops), munhindi (corn), a kikombe cha umoja (unity cup, typically a chalice unlike the one we recall seeing Lil’ Jon with years ago) for commeorating and giving shukrani (thanks) to African ancestors, and zawadi (gifts). Other supplemental representations such as the black, red, and green flag, African artworks and books symbolize the values and concepts reflective of African culture and contribution to community building and reinforcement.

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve not done it right to the letter as this has become more of an academic exercise than anything else despite the intrigue. Hopefully I’ll be more aligned with this aspect of the culture next year and come with some action and a better understanding of what to do. For anyone who attempts to marginalize Maulana Karenga, allow me to remind you that the so-called most revered American presidents owned slaves who built their personal wealth and a nation on the backs of my ancestors.

Thursday, November 16, 2017

Ultimate Party Crasher

I swear this is the last one - don’t miss the opportunity to read this final chapter!

Throughout the year, I’ve had people ask me what happened to the Dad Chronicles and as much as they have enjoyed reading and sharing our story, I was utterly exhausted from putting keystrokes and pictures together as I told the stories of Caeli and Chastity – and sometimes, my own related posts. Living was too much fun as we found some semblance of normalcy and as our toddler has begun making friends of her own organic way, her story has become one of a typical two-year-old. For the Saline County residents who haven’t found time or the effort to joining us for a play date, you and your little ones are missing out on a good friendship and occasionally, better barbecue (There’s my shameless plug for Dub Shack BBQ)!

I’ve privately told some people I stopped adding to the Dad Chronicles way back on Father’s Day. Today is the real epilogue.
My daddy says thank you for reading my story 

Some thirty-one months ago, our journey through prematurity began with an unexpected bang at home; whether some of you believe in the power of prayer and positive thinking or not, thank you for linking spiritual arms with the three of us, our doctors and nurses, the receptionists, specialists, social workers, our coworkers, and anyone who could make a difference toward the outcome you’ve read and/or heard about. Through the scariest months of my life not knowing if Caeli Elise would live or die, God has reminded me time and time again that our only child is destined to be great in a world that is beyond okay with accepting the status quo of being good. Trust me when I say we appreciate everything from meals, multiple boxes of clothes and toys, the nursery which Little Miss Sunshine is a direct beneficiary of when she stays awake during morning worship, those gas and restaurant cards, and the rare date night [to Wal-Mart, mind you] where the most romantic thing happening is pushing a grocery cart across the store to replenish Pull-Ups, wipes, milk, and fruit without having to stop and readjust a carrying shoulder every few aisles.
Some little boy is going to hate my daddy when I begin to date

November 17 is Prematurity Awareness Day for those who decided to crash the party a little early – class, educational or religious background, financial standing, political affiliation, parental upbringing, race – none of that really matters as our babies are going to show up when they are ready. We also honor the angels who returned to eternity before they had a chance to see what the zoo outside of their incubators and cribs is all about due to varying complications not limited to brain bleeds, overworked hearts, rejected donor’s blood, hyperthermia, etc.



 A reminder to parents entering the preemie experience: You have the right to say no at any point. Don’t let that little-bitty word be a burden regarding how to care for your own child. Caeli has been through some rough ailments, poked, and prodded more than the average toddler yet she’s still our superhero. Is she spoiled? Yes, I’ll admit to giving her more leeway than I should have at times.

 Will she have another sibling? Lord knows, but I do not. You’ll have to stay tuned.



Look at the rewards of working hard: when Little Miss Sunshine sweeps the carport, she gets to park her Bimmer in it.





Saturday, October 28, 2017

Crossroads

I went home last weekend for my 20th class reunion from high school.

Did I really write that sentence? It sure doesn’t exactly seem like twenty years since 425 Wampus Cats navigated our way through the confusing pods and an outdated hallway system to class, lunch, restrooms, and wherever else was convenient for that moment, but it has been that long – and that was further defined when I decided to try on my letterman jacket. It fits, but don’t ask me to button it up. The vinyl sleeves are sticky from years of hanging up in my childhood bedroom’s closet without consistent wear and I won’t go into detail about the trumpet that hasn’t seen the light of day since 1999! I think the yearbooks and stuff are somewhere in a storage facility across town only because I haven’t had any desire to load up any more boxes and bring home to Bryant; however, there is a futon that needs some serious love which I will gladly part with [Email me for details].



Like some of those 425 Wampus Cats who matriculated in 1997, I had conflicting feelings of if I wanted to come back. Would past hijinks be laughed at briefly and left in the past, or would someone try to lord some misdeed/inaction/fashion mistake over my head two decades later? What would those treasured friendships look like in our late thirties? Is this simply a money grab that on the outside exposes a haves-vs-have-nots culture despite most of us being at least cordial in real life? I had to show up to find out.


What I saw were roughly 140 friends [Regina has the exact number] of varying walks making a pilgrimage to the town we once ran as high school seniors many of whom were doing well and maintaining good health. Of course, we lost some soldiers along the way *pours St. Ides Special Brews on the grass* and a couple of us ended up doing a little more than an overnighter in the drunk tank, but by and large we are still together; Facebook really helps holding onto those ties of playing basketball everywhere, DBS functions, those first jobs, sitting in Ms. Snead’s World History class trying not to gouge our eyes out, extracurriculars, Kappa League, and whatever happened at Lollie Bottoms or Gold Lake most Friday and Saturday nights.


I wish more of our classmates would’ve come out and squashed the perceived beefs for no other reason than to acknowledge how short and precious life really is. I understand why some people didn’t make it; life happens whether it be distance, apathy, indifference, illness, or anything else – I ain’t mad at ‘cha, to quote 2Pac.  If I could get over the labels some of y’all gave me and the chortles when girls turned down my date requests, then it isn’t that hard to move on. As for the latter, there were some people whom I won’t mention yet didn’t want to see disowned and perhaps, being friend-zoned was good enough for me.


Beyond the obvious of seeing people, coming home also meant noticing changes to the city:  For example, Salem Road now travels north-south from Friendship Road to that new Lindsey Management-owned apartment complex at the end of South Salem Road past Southwind. Living in (or visiting Conway) also includes navigating roundabouts almost everywhere in lieu of stoplights clogging up the thoroughfares. With a second hospital, and more tech, oil, and retail opportunities than a little bit, it’s safe to say the hometown has grown into a nice city. We’ve come a long way from being newly minted drivers cruising on Front Street each Friday night and seeing the bootlegger for an overpriced fifth of Seagram’s gin.

All in all, it was a grand time indeed. Without the massive organization, we ought to do this again sometime soon – as an impromptu pop-up in some park or an open field akin to our partying days. I truly had a blast with everyone and my significantly better half got to see [and hear] the absurdly true stories of my life corroborated. Thanks to everyone who did come through, and for those who made it to the epic playdate at Laurel Park, I wish I could’ve made it but I had family obligations.


If I never tell you again, thanks for reading AD&AD and my random thoughts in addition to the Dad Chronicles over the past five years.

I’ll see you at the crossroads.

Saturday, September 30, 2017

When God Uses People To Defeat the Devil

In our daily walk and work, we encounter people who genuinely have our best interests at heart, opportunists, super saints, and some people so nefarious that we would think they would die in a spectacular combustion if they set foot on church property! Yet, we sometimes miss the intent of their interactions as some of us have been saved for so long and so heavenly good that we have become no earthly good. We get so comfortable in our small circles that they inevitably define us more than our mission to stomp out the devil. 

What kind of devil does Brother Deacon speak of today? 

Take a good look around you and open your eyes. If that isn’t enough, listen to Kanye West’s “Ultralight Beam” featuring Chance the Rapper, Kelly Price, and Kirk Franklin particularly if you’ve subscribed to the authenticity of loving the Lord and admitted to doing a little cussing. 

With some certainty it is easier to define our devils when we can physically point them out, but what if Lucifer manifests himself as an ideology or a system? How do we use people to put the kibbutz on sin or at the very least, make ourselves aware of battle? 

Below is 1 Peter 5:6-11 – the primary text I shall use for this blog. I’ll bounce around throughout the Bible to cite examples of brave men and women who have defeated the wiles of the devil and how they did it. Most of you know I study from the Contemporary English Version, so if you’re a stan for King James, it says roughly the same thing. 

6 Be humble in the presence of God’s mighty power, and He will honor you when the time comes. 
7 God cares for you, so turn all you worries over to him.
8 Be on your guard and stay awake. Your enemy, the devil, is like a roaring lion, sneaking around to find someone to attack. 
9 But you must resist the devil and stay strong in your faith. You know that all over the world the Lord’s followers are suffering just as you are. 
10  But God shows undeserved kindness to everyone. That’s why he appointed Christ Jesus to choose you to share in his eternal glory. You will suffer for a while, but God will make you complete, steady, strong, and firm. 
11 God will be in control forever!

If we focus solely on verse 8, Peter implores us to #StayWoke – before it became fashionable as a core phrase within #BlackLivesMatter – in the face of the devil we see and the one which we do not visually anticipate. When we stay on guard (some of our pan-Afrikan and Hotep brothers say ‘on-code’), by default we are aware of our surroundings; when we find ourselves in unfamiliar parts, we can glean through the pages of our own lives to have an idea of what to do. In this context, the word Be is a command requiring an immediate call to action, ex. “Be on your guard”; this is not a time to lolly gagging or sneaking in a quick nap. Pay attention! The devil does not always identify himself/herself/itself with horns over the head; sometimes she wears Prada - or nada but a fierce hunger and determination to find someone either complacent or vulnerable enough to take advantage of. Peter further explains that while the devil is always on the hunt, Satan looks for the sleepwalking Christians as his easiest prey to hinder the advancement of God’s Kingdom. Otherwise, mumblings will arise: If Brother Bobby did the same thing I’m doing, then what makes him better than me?
Sometimes the devil wears Prada,and sometimes she wears nada. 

Let’s face it:  Bad things happen to good people; do we let their sinful misstep define them, or do we step out in the name of love, forgive them, and help them realign their lives to be more Christ-centered instead of casting snide judgments at a sin we may or may not have committed yet possibly exiling them forever from His goodness due to a comment? 

So, how do we defeat the devil? God provides six ways to conquer this foe: 

A) Pray;
B) Cast down thoughts;
C) Get rest;
D) Renew your spirit;
E) Know that you are loved; and
F) Be positive.  

Nehemiah teaches us how to finish with a W although not everyone will finish this race undefeated and with nary a scratch.  He dealt with the violent threats of the enemy in Chapter 4, internal conflict between the wealthy and the poor Jews in Chapter 5, and naysayers toward the completion of the wall in Chapter 6. Even though I won’t go into full detail of all three chapters rather focusing on Nehemiah 6:1-19, read the previous three chapters foreshadowing the events that led him to build the wall around Jerusalem. We must know the four schemes Satan uses to throw us off and understand how to stand firmly against them:  intrigue, innuendo, intimidation, and infiltration. 

For example, Sanballat, Tobiah, Geshem, and other enemies found out that Nehemiah had completely rebuilt the wall save hanging the doors in the gate and they were intrigued enough to send an urgent message to visit them in the Ono Valley. Knowing the interest was insincere at best, he declined the invitation since the work was too important to leave incomplete. Yet, he was summoned to appear three separate times and turned them down each chance not because he was a jerk instead acknowledging the work God had placed before him. By being upfront, this enraged Sanballat the leader of the Samarians to the extent of wanting to destroy the city!

Note how 1 Peter 5:8 served as a reminder earlier for us to stay woke? See what false interest brings to the table and how the intrigue was intended for Nehemiah to get distracted with the task at hand. 

People aren’t always going to like us based on where our priorities lie; the devil even uses the good things to his advantage to pull us away from Job One. In addition, we have other to-dos that supersede the thing that was trying to occupy more of our valuable time and energy. If we get distracted by the platitudes and showering compliments, then we find ourselves off-code. If nothing else helps, pray.

For those of us who have been watching the news, many of us can recognize the use of innuendo – a veiled reflection on character or reputation. President Donald Trump uses this technique to provoke corporations and more recently, individual citizens with a series of falsehoods to damage the intended through his rallies, Twitter account, and policies he is lacking a basic understanding of such as health care and today, the Jones Act. In verses 5 through 9, Nehemiah sees through the harmful innuendo Sanballat tries to rope him into and his reaction is twofold:  casting down those untruths and prayer. Sure, he could have held a press conference denying any attempt to overthrowing and killing King Artaxerxes but he already knew that was patently false. Rather than fanning the flames of dissent and remaining silent, Nehemiah resisted Satan with the truth and prayer in the most distinct, clearest, open manner possible by sending Sanballat a message stating the following: “None of this is true! You’re making it all up.” Further, he lets the Jews know that their enemies were trying to frighten them and prevent them from doing the work, and asks God to give him strength during the storm. 
Excuse the language, but understand the larger point.

Does this sound familiar? 

Leaders must pray for God’s wisdom as to whether to remain silent or reply to false accusations. No matter how we respond, we must always pray and keep doing the work God has commissioned for us to do as it is the right thing. 

Nehemiah resisted the devil by standing firm in his priorities and with a forthright truth and prayer. Unfortunately, the devil wasn’t ready to quit trying him. 

Last weekend, over two hundred NFL players knelt during the national anthem in response to the president calling on team owners to “fire the SOBs”. The original intent of former San Francisco 49ers Colin Kaepernick’s protest was not toward the flag itself rather than police brutality and the nation not living up to its collective bargain with people of color, particularly African-Americans. Using coercion to suppress the First Amendment rights inherited to all Americans from birth to maintain employment showed the extent absolute sovereignty had become and how nationalism/white supremacy has found its way into the nation’s highest offices. In addition, Trump rescinded an invitation to the NBA champion Golden State Warriors to make a visit the very same weekend in retaliation of black people using their voices! 

In a way, the first white president (I know we had 43 white men as presidents of the United States prior to Barack Obama, but Donald Trump seems hellbent on turning back the clock to 1836) is using NFL owners to do the buck-breaking for him and the overly patriotic (usually white) Americans who put more stock in fabric than a man and his own experiences. Perhaps they are okay with paying to see gladiators throw themselves around as entertainment for a few dollars because showing an ounce of blackness is too intimidating for the same men and women who spent all day drinking and eating, cheering for the Cowboys on Sunday and calling the Hogs each Saturday afternoon. 

Look at how former Razorbacks men’s basketball coach Nolan Richardson took on the University of Arkansas after his firing and won some Pyrrhic victories although he didn’t get the money he originally  requested. 

Nehemiah went to visit Shemaiah who was supposedly confined to his home except he wanted to go hide in the temple in fear of Nehemiah’s enemies coming to kill him that night. “Why should someone like me go hide in the temple to save my life?” asked Nehemiah. “I won’t go!” It was then the son of Hacaliah realized that God had not given Shemaiah the message, instead he was being used by Sanballat and Tobiah to trick and frighten him into doing something wrong such as entering the temple [remember, Nehemiah was an average man called to do extraordinary things – he wasn’t a priest]. He then asked God to punish the duo, the prophetess Noadiah, and anyone involved in the set-up. 

This was his “nah, playa. We good” moment. 

In leadership, we never truly get rest until the mission is accomplished. In what seems to become rote for him, Nehemiah prays. This time, he asks God to take care of his enemies. When Satan sends people to intimidate us with disobedience, respond with fearless obedience and prayer. 

Consider how the Hoover-led FBI was complicit in the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and more the local white clergy and moderates in the South who preferred the Civil Rights Movement be a gradual one. 

After fifty-two days, the wall around Jerusalem was completed! The devil went home, the workers were overjoyed, and Nehemiah was about to sit in the cut and sip Moscato, right? 

Nah, playa; there is more to the story.

While the enemies were deflated from trying so hard to block our blessings, they did admit that God was in control all along as even they credited their success not to the workers but to Him. 
The good news is Satan lost the battle. The bad news is he was about to play dirty and continue the war. 

Remember Tobiah, the governor of the Ammonites? It turned out he was a nominal (honorary) half-Jew, and by virtue of his marriage and business ties to Jews, he had an insider’s view of the positive things Nehemiah was doing and his hard work in restoring Jerusalem. Yet, he wrote those threatening letters to Nehemiah and undermined him at every chance; his infiltration of the culture proves that even the church has had to contend with wolves in sheep’s clothing. During Nehemiah’s absence to Persia, the governor had the audacity to move his personal belongings into the temple! Once he returned and saw what it really was – a compromise with the world, Nehemiah personally threw his household goods out of the room. 
Don't forget this happened multiple times in the Bible

Until Christ returns, there will be no perfect church. We have agendas that we want to set even to the detriment of collective Kingdom building, and we as humans tend to be more hung up on our titles than the real objective of soul-saving. From my own experiences, I have seen churches nearly split because an associate minister refused to stay in his lane or the pastor would hog the pulpit or in community congregations, one family has effectively neutralized the God-appointed leadership.
A few lessons that come from this are not to expect perfection in Christian work; never put confidence in our own work, but only in God who enables us to work; and when God’s people compromise with the world, it hinders God’s work. 

Want to see how else people beat the devil in the Book of Nehemiah and its real-life correlations? 

Turn a few pages in your Bibles to Nehemiah 2:10 and read this:

10 But when Sanballat from Horon and Tobiah the Ammonite official heard about what had happened, they became very angry, because they didn’t want anyone to help the people of Israel. 

To me, this is eerily similar to the Republican Party wasting votes to repeal the Protection Patient Affordable Care Act, also known as Obamacare by linking the entitlements to persons of color getting free stuff, death panels, and other racist narrative right-wing news media and talk show hosts parroted that day. After massive calls and packing out town halls, we can only hope that repeal is dead; why would some men and women who claim to be Christians not take care of the least of these? Oh, I know why; white Republican Jesus is in it for the tax cuts first, and religion is a convenient muse to conceal sinful intent – in this case, the twin sins of greed and racism.

Now we know how people are prepared to defeat the devil, how do we fight Satan? 

By putting on the whole armor of God as per Ephesians 6:10-17.

10 Finally, let the mighty strength of the Lord make you strong. 
11 Put on the all the armor that God gives, so you can defend yourself against the devil’s tricks. 
12 We are not fighting against humans. We are fighting against forces and authorities and against rulers of darkness and powers in the spiritual world. 
13 So put on all the armor that God gives. Then when that evil day comes, you will be able to defend yourself. And when the battle is over, you will be standing firm.
14 Be ready! Let the truth be like a belt around your waist, and let God’s justice protect you like armor. 
15 Your desire to tell the good news about peace should be like shoes on your feet. 
16 Let your faith be like a shield, and you will be able to stop all of the flaming arrows of the evil one.
17 Let God’s saving power be like a helmet, and for a sword use God’s message that comes from the Spirit. 

The trickery is real, and so is the explicit AND implicit biases we have to navigate daily. Not only do we have to deal with discriminatory laws in how they are enforced but also the very real possibility of substandard health care for our families. Combine that with the macro- and micro-aggressions we endure at work and it is a miracle the bosses we kill with our thoughts have not actually perished! This does not include the legal system where the prosecuting attorneys and sheriffs wield more power in determining if a man is free or imprisoned by the amount of bail money and fines required in exchange for his freedom; several judges nationwide implicitly use race as a factor during sentencing. Think about why as election season nears, they parade around the disproportionate number of black men incarcerated as they portray themselves as “tough on crime” and the “law and order” candidates, both of which are code words for locking ‘em up and throwing away the keys.
Satan, get behind me!

Let us see what happens when the courts are now filled with opioid addicts and dealers if they get the book thrown at them or some call for help, like a rehab. Then tell me why. 

Despite the fake news and falsehoods spread around to damage our character, the truth shall shine through like a butt-kicking superhero as our faith resembles a shield intended for us to block the flames and grenades tossed in our way. Be unapologetic. Be woke. Be the great that God calls us to be.