The Lazarus Effect

Recently, Michael Santiago Render, better known by his stage name Killer Mike, had a huge effect on me. A little over a month ago, he swept the rap category at the Grammys. He dropped his moniker, invested 500,000 dollars of his own money, and simply put out an honest album that he describes as introducing people to Michael. This year, Easter marked 3 years of me uprooting my family from a ministry that we had been a part of for 25+ years in pursuit of purpose, but his story genuinely inspired me. It has taken me the last 3 years to process and accept this next phase of my journey, only to realize how much I had to unlearn, forgive, and grow from. Realizing the person I truly am, has been a frightening experience because for years I saw myself as one thing, only to realize that once I changed my environment, it wasn’t me at all. Dying to self is extremely hard. And being your true self sometimes can be even harder. I’ve heard many people say that they are afraid to die. And I can understand that when you have things that you have not accomplished yet, or you might feel like there is still something for you to do in your lifetime. I get it, but it can also be looked at as selfishness. Either way, there comes a time in our life when we must accept it. Whether it’s a loved one who has lived a long life as a family patriarch, we personally can’t let them go even if they have come to grips with it. It could be death to a friendship or relationship that is bad for us, or maybe a habit, addiction, or even how we see ourselves may be causing us to die slowly. To slowly pass away is what I would consider suffering. Death is inevitable, but we can drag death along and turn it into misery and anguish.

I really wanted to prove my love to God. But I also realized that I did a lot more by saying that I loved rather than showing that I loved. I also started to understand that during this process I saw that it was hard for me to receive love or trust. In certain parts of my life, it didn’t register or make sense. I was confused or I didn’t recognize love to a certain degree. I was being reprogrammed. All the whoopings and childhood chastisement were brought back to my remembrance, attached with the lesson that I learned from it.  Sometimes we go through pain and are allowed to experience it for the sake of the love shown. Tough love is something that I learned and filtered through later in life. Heartbreak is something that eventually helped me grow. But both instances helped me and made me better through the discomfort of undergoing them. It also helps us recognize that sometimes what we want and what God wants for us is different. We can white-knuckle a dream or a self-professed vision that we have for ourselves, only to realize later that it was nothing more than selfish ambition or conditioning.

When a doctor gives you a shot, you only experience pain or discomfort for a short while. I’ve never really been scared of shots, but I have noticed that people who fear needles are usually focused on the pain. I learned that from my children. Trips to the doctor's office were always the worst because the question they would always ask was, “Is it going to hurt?”, even though they knew that it would. When they were younger, I could keep them distracted while the nurse would give them a shot. But as they got older, they would either anticipate the shot, catch on to the game, and no longer fall for the okey doke which would eventually require a mild restraint, or I would give in to promises of candy and toys to go through with it. The funny thing is after the shot, doctors would always give a lollipop to help ease their minds from the overdramatic trauma that the little ones experienced, and they would be back to normal as if nothing happened.

Many times, in my life I’ve witnessed that same similarity in God’s anger. Like those immunization shots, the pain only lasts for a moment, but the benefit of the shot you don’t tend to think about it all being worth it. The good effects of the medicine administered should outweigh the pain that you feel temporarily. I never really thought about it like that. There is nothing permanent about what we face in life. But when the situation arises, we can treat it like it is perpetual. The problem will last only a night, only a season, but can treat them like a binge-worthy rerun marathon in our minds. Like my children, we can focus on the pain and make it so much bigger than it is. We can forget that aside from the momentary hurt, that same instrument is there to help us. We can squirm and become anxious and relive those quick moments of torment every time we have a doctor’s visit, but Psalm 30:5 reads, “for his anger last only a moment, but his favor last a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning”. No matter how difficult or challenging the problem may appear to be, one thing is certain in this, problems don’t last forever. We have to learn that whatever we go through, every doctor’s visit that we attend, is only a temporary situation. There’s nothing permanent about what we go through.

Happiness is the byproduct of obedience. True obedience. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve looked at situations where it seemed like the end of the world, only to laugh about it later in life. We truly have the ability to take our hardships, times of pain, and sacrifice and use those stolen moments to learn from. We can all sit back now and laugh about those doctor visits when my children were younger and how they reacted. We can even sit down with them and joke about it and all have a good laugh. We have also laughed at this, my wife is a professional nurse, and she administers shots all the time. But in her case, depending on the size of the needle, or the lack of experience perceived by the unlucky managing attendant, she too can become uneasy and reluctant. This means that there are some pains that we go through depending on the size, and we can react differently. She has gone through many hours and years of training, to give, understand, and explain the benefits of medicines, yet even with that knowledge of knowing that it’s going to make her better, it is still uncomfortable for her to a certain degree. When he afflicts us, it is to our advantage that we may be partakers of his love and we have to be able to identify it in our storms. I had to learn how to receive it. His love is not perceived as punishment, but it is proof that he loves us. Sometimes, we find the challenge in life is looking for the easiest way around pain. Don’t get me wrong, life throws us for a loop every now and then, but we must learn to take a brief shot of pain in order to receive the lollipop afterward. Our pain should rally our faith. Our discomfort should resemble his love. Pain petitions us in the PM, but bliss awakens us in the AM. We have to stop being afraid of what could go wrong and start being positive about what could go right.

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

Follow The White Rabbit

“My Mamma used to tell me this story about the jackrabbit and the box turtle. The jackrabbit is a real d@#%, and he brags all the time, he says nobody's faster'n him. And well, it's true ‘cause every time, the jackrabbit races, he always wins. The whole f@#$%* forest has to put up with this s@#! day in and day out. The f@#$%* always wants to race just so he can rub in it some more. So the box turtle figures, 'why not? I'll give it a try. The jackrabbit laughs, 'This'll be fun, so let's f@#$%* go.' The jackrabbit leaves the box turtle in the f@#$%* dust ‘cause he's way out in front. The jackrabbit always wins. But the jackrabbit wants to put on a show, so he stops to make it seem close, and takes a nap. But he sleeps longer than he wanted to. By the time he wakes up, I mean he knows he's f@#$%*, and the jackrabbit goes full tilt, but it's too late and the box turtle crosses the finish line first and the crowd, whoosh, goes f@#$%* wild. Later that night the box turtle's havin' dinner with his family. He's tellin’ his little box turtles how he did it. 'I mean, you never give up. I just kept crawlin' forwards, and you can overcome just about anything.'

The door smashes in. It's the jackrabbit, and he has a hammer. He smashes up the wife and kids first so the box turtle has to watch ‘em die. And then it's his turn. Once the whole family is broken into little pieces, he sits down and eats their dinner, every last bite... ‘cause the jackrabbit always wins.” (The Hunt, 2020)

It's true that sometimes the moral of a story can be open to interpretation and may change depending on one's life experiences and perspectives. After writing my memoir, I stumbled across a movie called "The Hunt" and in the strangest way, a character by the name of Crystal May Creasey's narrative resounded with me so deeply, reminding me of my own struggles with forgiveness and being humble. In her unexpected powerful portrayal, this small snippet became an “aha moment” and a testament to the intricate balance between perseverance and forgiveness that I’ve always wrestled with. The story of “The Jackrabbit and the Box Turtle” presented itself as a reminder to me that life is unpredictable and sometimes things don't go according to plan.

This simple retold story held an incredible value that went far beyond its surface message. It triggered me as I delved into thoughts of the follow-up to my memoir, Turtles Win Rabbit Races. I realized that while perseverance had been my superpower, forgiveness had often been my kryptonite. I had encountered situations and individuals in my life that caused pain, and resentment, and letting go of that bitterness seemed impossible. But through this process, I began to understand the transformative power of forgiveness. It doesn't mean forgetting or condoning the hurtful actions, but rather freeing oneself from the burden of holding onto anger and resentment. Forgiving others allows us to reclaim our own inner peace and move forward with a sense of liberation.

Refusing to forgive keeps us captive to the hurt, while forgiveness sets us free. Forgiveness was a new world for me. I’ve heard about it, but I never really got to experience it for myself, which is what led me to “the white rabbit”. We are still talking about rabbits, right? My defense mechanism has always been to persevere, but it was always to a place or a “race” where I felt comfortable and that I could control. The turtle’s optimism has always relied on what the turtle could do himself, but following the white rabbit symbolizes the beginning of a new journey. It means to follow a path that leads to an unexpected or unknown destination. This is where my quest for forgiveness started. It can be a metaphor for following something that got your attention, something that speaks to your heart. And I knew in my heart that I needed to forgive, I just didn’t want to or even know how to. I knew that I had to do something new in order to see something new, and I wanted my life to change. I could understand that trials and tribulations were making me tougher, but being hurt by someone didn’t fit in my rationale. I was experiencing all this new positivity in my life, yet I was still irritated, insulted, and hostile when it came to a select few. Why? Because I wasn’t free.

I had found myself in a strange place, learning that life is a journey filled with unexpected twists and turns. Sometimes, all it takes is following the white rabbit - that unlikely clue that leads us into extraordinary situations. Taking this first step reminded me of the iconic scenes from The Matrix or Alice in Wonderland. By following a white rabbit, I joined both Neo and Alice in sharing how their journeys began. For me it was forgiveness. For Neo, it was a tattoo of the white rabbit, while for Alice, it was a bit more literal. Either way, it's a testament to our instinctive sense of optimism, which the white rabbit metaphorically represents, that properly starts their journey and changes their lives forever. And in this journey of self-discovery, I’ve seen parallels between Alice in Wonderland and Neo in the Matrix with how I was feeling. It takes a lot of courage to be open and confront unresolved issues, but it can lead to a greater understanding of ourselves and our purpose. It's interesting to see how different things can act as a catalyst for this journey, whether it's a talking rabbit, a message on a computer screen, or a movie clip. It's also important to be mindful of external vices that distract us from this journey.

It is in these moments that we are presented with the opportunity to challenge our beliefs and embrace the unknown. Following the white rabbit means following an unlikely clue and finding yourself in the middle of an uncomfortable but extraordinary situation. I believe that following YOUR white rabbit means exploring what's behind the veil of the unknown and a willingness to venture beyond our comfort zones to truly transform our lives. When we choose to follow it, we open ourselves up to new possibilities and embark into uncharted territory. While it may seem scary at first, this leap of faith often leads us to remarkable experiences that we never could have imagined. Following the white rabbit is what gets everything in motion. It’s the willingness to take accountability for yourself and to see where it goes. It’s the first step you must take to face your fears, and insecurities, and to become the best you. Initially, it's what gets you out of your consolation and pushes you toward the thing that you would usually run from. Following the white rabbit is what led me down the path of forgiveness. Rather than allowing myself to continue using being hurt as motivation, opening my heart to forgiveness was something that I never thought that I would do. Unforgiveness was the driving force and what fueled my spirit of perseverance, and I realized that I was using the wrong grade of gas. And I’m not talking about regular or premium, I’m talking about Jesus because I had come to the conclusion that I don’t need them or an I’ll show them mentality. It made me turn inward. The Matrix made me feel like I was self-efficient. Wonderland made me pretentious. I felt entitled to hold on to the anger and resentment. I made the decision to be intentional in letting go of the offense and bitterness.

In Turtles Win Rabbit Races, I compared life to a race, where I strived to reach my goals and cross the finish line. But too often, I found myself fixated on comparing my own strengths and weaknesses to those around me. I played the protagonist in my favorite fable growing up, The Tortoise and The Hare, where the slow and steady tortoise triumphs over the speedy hare. But what if I told you that in the race of life, it's not always about being the first one to cross the line or the most determined? Yes, races involve other people, but new experiences have taught me that forgiveness is a lonely road and that the good guy doesn’t always win, especially when we expect everyone to play fair. In an actual race between a turtle and a rabbit, I would without doubt put my cash on the rabbit, however, I had to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. I’ve recently realized that the true essence of winning lies not in simply outpacing others but in staying true to who we are and our journey. In life's race, I’m learning that winning shouldn’t solely be defined by crossing a finish line before others; it is about personal growth, resilience, and embracing one's own unique path. While external factors may influence our journey, it is ultimately up to us to determine how we navigate through challenges and setbacks. No matter how many times we stumble or fall behind, we have to keep going because ultimately it is not just about winning the race but also about enjoying every step of the journey toward accomplishment. The real lesson of the story "The Rabbit Always Wins" holds tremendous value and is a reminder we can all benefit from. It teaches us a significant message: "Don't miss an opportunity to experience triumph by being proud and idle."

In following the white rabbit, I discovered that life's greatest adventures lie beyond our everyday routines. We are thrusting ourselves into situations that test our limits and force us to question what we thought we knew. These moments of uncertainty become catalysts for personal growth, as we learn to adapt, overcome obstacles, and embrace change. It leads us down paths less traveled; paths that ultimately shape who we are and what we become. So don't be afraid to follow your own white rabbit – you’ll never know where it might take you or how it might transform your life for the better.

Moving Mountains

I love the fall season.  I love the colors of the season and the holidays. And it gives me the opportunity to delve into some of my favorite comfort foods that are perfect and ripe this time of year. “Fall” is symbolic of harvest or abundance so to speak but is also a season of things dying.  The leaves are beautiful, yet they fall away from their life source. Change is also beautiful if you allow the process to naturally run its course. The month of November has always served as a visual reminder that I should always not only embrace change but to be optimistic. Autumn usually represents death. And unfortunately, all things have to die. But “Thanksgiving” is also a great reminder to give thanks for all things. I love meeting with family and indulging in the sin of gluttony like most people, however reflecting on the things that I’ve grown from to acknowledging the things that I need to let to let die in my life are hallmarks. And these things to me have served as the proverbial mountains in my life. Traditionally, I’ve always referred to Matthew 17:20,

20 “Because you’re not yet taking God seriously,” said Jesus. “The simple truth is that if you had a mere kernel of faith, a mustard seed, say, you would tell this mountain, ‘Move!’ and it would move. There is nothing you wouldn’t be able to tackle.”

As a scripture that I’ve given a lot of oxygen to, I’ve told, whispered, spoken to, yelled at the top of my lungs at, and even cursed at the mountains that erected before me in my life. I thought I had faith. I was taught that all I had to do is “tell this mountain to move” and it would. And if I could be completely honest, most of the time “it” didn’t. And when “it” didn’t move initially, I made the hasty decision to foolishly attempt to “climb” the mountain, which only resulted in either me losing my grip or footing and slipping down to the bottom of this mountain covered in the rubble that accompanied me on the way down. Thankfully, I learned a huge lesson this year. Recently, I came across a quote from Confucius that said, “The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”

And while I was surprised that I had never noticed this before, by being in a new environment, I was able to identify with these sentiments quite differently. This quote helped me realize that while faith moves mountains, faith without works is also dead. My approach was all wrong. I consistently struggled with trying to move my mountain by deadlifting it. Or yelling at God and questioning why was this mountain still here, or even better, why hadn’t he made it magically disappear? I condemned myself. I self-sabotaged His love for me. And I completely ignored the grace that I had been given. And I never recognized the simple question of how this mountain got there in the first place. Mountains are formed when the Earth’s crust smashes against each other and buckles up like the hood of a car in a head-on collision. All those years of ignorance, dysfunctional cycles, and bad habits had formed a crust thicker than a Chicago Stuffed pizza, and life just kept smashing up against each other repeatedly without me ever engaging in, addressing the problems, or making a valid effort to face it. But thankfully, this past season of “mountain climbing” taught me that rock bottom will teach you lessons that mountaintops never will. And even though I had faith, what if I had been assigned this mountain to show others that it could be moved? We move mountains, one stone at a time. When we have an issue or want to make a change in our lives, sometimes we can only focus on the mountain. We are often discouraged because it looks too big, and we get anxious or overwhelmed. But every big change starts with one little step. Every Summer season eventually leads to Autumn. So, whatever the “mountain” is in your facing in this season, don’t let it intimidate you.

As a matter of fact, even though you have faith, grab the smallest stone in front of you and make the decision to move that first.

I Grieve Different

Mortality has been on my mind a lot lately. Next month, November will be the anniversary of my father’s passing. Last week, I also got a call from a very close friend of mine telling me that his mother had just passed away, 2 days before my birthday. A few days prior to that, my wife received the news that her father was unresponsive at the facility he was staying at unexpectedly. Not to mention, she had just returned two weeks prior from burying her father’s brother. Followed by a family friend that also passed away in the same week.  It’s been a really tough month. This past Saturday, we laid my wife’s father to rest, reluctantly at my former church, and on Sunday, my family celebrated my oldest daughter’s 19^th birthday which made this weekend somewhat bittersweet.

On the morning of the funeral, I was extremely anxious and uneasy as I tried to mentally prepare myself to walk into a place that was so filled with emotional triggers. As I sat in the car with my children in the parking lot, I watched as nostalgic memories and former colleagues entered the building. A song by Kendrick Lamar from his recent album, Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers came to mind for some reason. The chorus goes, “I grieve different…” and at that moment those words resonated with me strongly. They gave me the much-needed strength to not only be there for my wife in one of life’s most devastating moments, but it was the gentle nudge that I needed to push me through the doors of my former place of worship. Almost a year to date, I walked through these same doors to say goodbye to my close friend who passed, and we both vowed to never come back yet there I was. In the days leading up to it, I thought to myself, why am I being brought back here again? It almost felt like it was for a specific purpose. I had no say in the matter. I almost knew that I HAD to come back this way again and to literally be forced by circumstance was probably the only way I would’ve done it. Matter of fact I know it. K-Dot’s song is titled, “United in Grief”, where he raps about how he identifies with certain instances and relates to specific people throughout the verses. Which in turn meant that ideally, we are all suffering in one way or another with the hopes of continuing life. And just like funerals, we are consequently brought together by our shared anguish, sadness, and suffering. But for me, a lot of times, things that I’ve heard throughout my years typically come to my remembrance when most needed, and this is what this song was. I’ve heard this statement several times in my life, especially at funerals, that some things have to die in order for other things to live. Or if I were to apply this to me personally, the attachment to an old church has to die if the gifts of a new season are to begin. It is kind of like a principle of life. It is unchangeable and undeniable. It is what it is. There are birthdays and funerals, and we are supposed to learn how to celebrate both. But in all sincerity, change is not fun at all. Change is a lot like death to a certain degree.  And eventually, we ought to recognize it and understand it if we are ever going to experience growth.  And not everyone is going to celebrate your growth, your transformation, your good news, and your higher vibrational journey. That is why you have to.

In the past two weeks, we’ve been celebrating the life of those who are still present, while also attempting to celebrate the life of those who are no longer here with us in the flesh. For me personally, this year has been a time of healing, prioritizing friendships, and optimistically positioning myself for my next phase of life – but as of recently, I’m learning that we can only control what we can control. And some things in life are beyond our control. I’ve realized that change won’t come from suppressing old feelings and ideas and stacking new opinions and beliefs on top of them like a Big Mac. We consequently have to denounce our previous concepts completely, to create space for the brand-new one to occupy. Essentially, at the end of the day, some part of us must die for a new part to live.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

3 There’s an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth:

2-8 A right time for birth and another for death,

A right time to plant and another to reap,

A right time to kill and another to heal,

A right time to destroy and another to construct,

A right time to cry and another to laugh,

A right time to lament and another to cheer,

A right time to make love and another to abstain,

A right time to embrace and another to part,

A right time to search and another to count your losses,

A right time to hold on and another to let go,

A right time to rip out and another to mend,

A right time to shut up and another to speak up,

A right time to love and another to hate,

A right time to wage war and another to make peace.

There’s a right time for everything right. Things change, and it was time for me to do the same. I had been selfishly holding on to “this” for quite some time. I hadn’t given myself the opportunity to grow from it, let alone learn from it. I wasn’t paying attention to the timing of everything, I was just caught up in my feelings. It was time for me to move on. Rather than grieving properly, I was acting just like those people that literally try to climb into the casket with a loved one not wanting to accept the inevitable. I had physically left the environment, but I was still there emotionally. And at that moment, I chose to let the funeral service not only serve as a memorial for my father-in-law but for me also. It was time for me not only to pay my last respects to the man but to the relationship with the place. So, as we got out of the car and made our way toward the entrance, I could feel myself being filled with an indescribable sense of peace. I walked in. I embraced people. I smiled hard. I was surrounded by loving family, and I held my wife’s hand tight as we said goodbye. As the welcome was being read, we sat there together “United in Grief” with friends, past and present, as we persevered through this season of life now giving me the understanding that first, it hurts, and then it changes you. I grieve different.

Every ending is an opportunity for a new beginning.

The Number 49

This year I celebrate my 49^th trip around the sun. And on the morning of my b-day, I didn’t want to be optimistic like I usually am, yet I wanted to be intentional. I’ve never been one to really celebrate my birthday since childhood, so I kind of never treated it like it was a big deal. I was grateful but I just wasn’t used to putting that much emphasis on it. I would always find myself in a funk and somewhat unexplainably depressed since I could remember. But recently after the loss of my pops and my homeboy, I started coming to terms with learning to appreciate life from moment to moment, I decided to take a different approach and chose to start celebrating my special day. My wife had lost her dad a few days prior, so it felt like the inevitable was on the horizon as the eve of my red-letter day neared. So, in a last-minute effort, I scrounged together a makeshift celebration of things that I’ve been wanting to do but never got around to it. First, I wanted to visit the WNDR Museum, to stimulate my inner creative and expose my family to an immersive experience. And secondly, I found a restaurant called, The Tortoise Supper Club, which I felt would help me “stay in character” so to speak, and stay focused on my perseverance-themed yearlong initiative “in my turtle’s race” as I closed in on my album release in a few weeks. So, I got up, journaled a bit, mentally put together my “fit”, and shared my plans for the day with my eagerly awaiting family. To make a long story short, it truly ended up being perfect. Everything I wanted to do I did with no backlash. No disagreements wit’ wifey, no complaining children, no traffic, etc. Now don’t get me wrong, I could definitely nitpick, (wifey took too long to get ready, food could’ve been better) but for the most part, the day was pretty perfect. As always, I woke up the next morning to figure out and lock in my goals for the upcoming year. During my devotion, I decided to look up the significance of the number 49 in a biblical sense, and I was led to this:

The Meaning of Numbers: The Number 49

The meaning of the number 49 is derived from the fact that it is 7 times 7. Seven is a Biblically perfect numeral representing spiritual perfection.

So to myself, I felt pretty DOPE for a sec until I read a little further. As I continued it shared the illustration of when Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive a person who sinned against him. He suggested that forgiving someone seven times seemed generous to him. And the Lord's response, however, was "I do not say to you until seven times, but until seventy times seven (490 or 49 x 10)" (Matthew 18:22). Christians are not to limit themselves in regards to forgiveness and mercy. If they are to be perfect, like their heavenly Father (Matthew 5:48), believers are required to offer unlimited forgiveness.

That “feeling” of perfect that I felt just one day prior, was mentally whisked away as all of my attention now focused on this undeniable statement that led me to believe that this finding was on purpose, and I willingly accepted it because it instantly challenged me. This proclamation shook me to the core because FORGIVENESS is something that I’ve struggled with my whole life. And forgiveness, while a process, is a race that I’ve lost so many times in the course of my life’s marathon. That fun fact of 7x7 with the biblically perfect hodgepodge and the significance of that for me in real-time addressed a situation that I was currently preparing for. As I stated, my father-in-love passed away a few days prior to my birthday, and in the days to come I would find out that his homegoing would be at the very church that I painfully exited just a year ago. And the transition was very emotionally draining, infused with backlash and persecution, with a sprinkle of resentment, that could easily trigger me when in that environment. Since leaving in March of 2021, I’ve only been back once since then to lay my best friend to rest on December 16 of ‘21, which was just as painful. Earlier this year I came across a book by Tariq Trotter, a.k.a. Black Thought, called 7 Years: Words + Music | Vol. 18, and the lessons learned in this intriguing look into his life oozed out of me to seemingly seep into the cracks of this reopened wound that I had been reluctantly hoping would form a scab and heal up already. But it hadn’t, and here I was nursing this injury improperly, only allowing this non-treated infection to continue to grow into this mass of unforgiveness year after year. In this audiobook, he gave insights with transparency about his life and career in seven-year increments, and how the dynamics of our lives change every seven years. This made sense to me. It helped me understand a lot in this season in my life. And as I stepped ten toes down into this new chapter in my life cycle, I understood that it was time to finally DEAL with it. The proverbial band-aid needed to be ripped off, and the soothing ointment of forgiveness had to be applied. So in this 49^th year, the goal is to FORGIVE. Not for others’ sake, but mine. I am required to offer not only unlimited forgiveness but mercy. So this week, as I prepare to give honor to a man that meant a lot to me and many others, I begin with an idiom that I heard many years ago but never understood or had to until now. It says to make (the) perfect the enemy of (the) good which means: to allow the demand, desire, or insistence for perfection to decrease the chances of obtaining a good or favorable result in the end. (Usually used in the negative as an imperative.) Or in layman’s terms, some of us, unfortunately, strive to live perfect lives (on the outside), when in actuality we can make the perfect enemy of good and not experience true happiness and peace in this lifetime on the inside. Just because a decision hurts doesn’t mean it’s the wrong decision. And in hindsight, I’ve also come to know that you might have to fight a battle more than once to win it. So, my goal in this 49^th year around the sun is to FORGIVE and LEARN HOW TO TURN WOUNDS INTO WISDOM.

God's Plans Are Better Than My Dreams

Dreams. I heard this word throughout my life, but I could never quite put my finger on the sentiment until recently. From what I’ve read, the definition is; dreams are understood to be recent autobiographical episodes that become woven with past memories to create a new memory that can be referenced later, but nightmares are simply dreams that cause a strong but unpleasant emotional response. Dreams are things that I’ve spoken of and with several people in my life in different seasons, some living and some that are no longer here, but we all had an idea of at least what our individual dreams were. We’ve all chimed in about what our dreams are, but only a select few from within my 6 degrees of separation have I witnessed them manifest.  Motivational speaker Les Brown said, “The graveyard is the richest place on earth because it is here that you will find all the hopes and dreams that were never fulfilled, the books that were never written, the songs that were never sung, the inventions that were never shared, the cures that were never discovered, all because someone was too afraid to take that first step, keep with the problem, or determined to carry out their dream.” He also stated that, “too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears.” Now fear is something that I am all too familiar with. For over half my life, anxiety, doubt, and worry held me captive on a short leash. Fear can kill more dreams than failure ever will. And I know a few dreams that are lying dormant in the cemetery now from those whom I’ve known personally that have passed on. I was having a discussion with a friend over coffee the other morning, and I was sharing how as a Christian in organized religion, I was programmed to see everything through the lens of faith. Meaning that it was drilled in me, or should I say that I was willingly force-fed the ideology of faith-intensive messages subconsciously molding me to believe more in what I couldn’t see, than what I could. Now don’t get me wrong, I strongly believe in faith, but I feel like I was conditioned to be more inclined to the narrative of trusting God to do it behind the curtains, rather than me physically watching the stagehands and production crew build the set. I staunchly trust in the system of FAITH, but as an avid DIYer, there have been a few things that if it wasn’t for YouTube and lack of funds, I never would have challenged myself to accomplish. To some of us, seeing IS actually believing, and while it doesn’t work in all segments of life, it rings true to many. I read once that, “the man who moves a mountain begins by carrying small stones.” And I’ve also been in the confines of congregations or communities on many a Sunday morning hearing echoes of faith moving mountains and such. I, without a shadow of a doubt, have the faith of a mustard seed, and I’ve planted that seed in a few grassy knolls only to be consumed by weeds. You’ll never hear me confess to having a green thumb, but you can ask my wife about a few projects that I’ve typed in my google browser that turned out to be “a dream come true scenario.” I’ve made a mess out of a lot of things as I’ve chased my dreams over the years. I’ve attempted to climb a few mountains myself, only to lose my footing and fall face-first into a pile of failure. Why should I keep stepping out on faith when there are no visible steps? Because you have to face your fears to live your dreams. Sometimes you have to risk it all for a dream only you can see. Sometimes life is about risking everything for a dream no one can see but you. Every time I chased my dreams and fell, over time I learned that I needed to “chase” my dream differently. For a long time, I struggled internally because like Moe (Moses) in the Good Book, I would rebuttal with God about not knowing what to do with what I was given. I watched all the YouTube videos on faith, and I still didn’t get it.

Recently, I was vibing in the studio with my recording engineer and we were discussing the mental strain of being older and still attempting to make music in hip-hop and how difficult it can be. We laughed about how we approach our dreams differently the older we get. Studio time and writing songs happen inversely now rather than when I was in my twenties, without a wife and children, and my priorities were simply a car note, a cell phone bill, and a steady supply of weed. In this stage of my life, I’m beginning to understand that your dreams shouldn’t change just because your priorities do. Dreams aren’t plastic, they’re elastic – and as a Christian who participated in the business of church, I was programmed to rely on everything by faith. But in the process of chasing my dreams, I began to appreciate that while knowing I’m in God’s hands, to a certain degree, your life is in your hands, and you have to stop waiting for further instructions. I had to stop asking blind people to proofread my vision. I had to stop asking people who have not been where I was going for directions. After moonlighting for a while as a mountain climber, I, unfortunately, got the hang of falling, and I learned that rock bottom will teach you lessons that mountaintops never will.  Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my dream. And I’m learning how to build that dream with the same stones that were thrown at me. When you have to prove people wrong about your dreams, stopping isn’t an option. Dream chasing led me to the foot of the mountain, and in times past, I either prayed for God to remove the mountain or I put my faith in

Matthew 17:20-21 where Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

But while I believe in both, as of recent, I feel like I’ve been assigned this mountain to show others that it CAN be moved. Last year, Dave Chappelle honored Jay-Z at the 36th Annual Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony, and as I witnessed history as part fan/part hip-hop enthusiast, he said these words that summed it up for me, “Oh don’t get it twisted, American pie is not made out of apples, it’s made out of whatever you can get your @#$%* hands on. And I felt that. But so are our dreams. For me it boils down to this, you better get to climbing because those dreams hit different when you remember what you went through to fulfill them.

They call me a dreamer but I’m the one that doesn’t sleep.

Some People Hold You Down, And Some People Hold You Down

Reporting to you live from the… Murder capital, where we murder for capital. A quote by Chicago’s own Kanye West prophetically utters those words that not only echo through the airwaves but the blood-filled streets of Chicago. Unfortunately, many young and talented rappers from Chicago have lost their lives due to senseless gun and gang-related violence. I came from that and unfortunately, I’m a product of that to a certain degree. Some of the hip-hop artists and rappers who’ve died from gun violence in Chicago include OTF Nunu, L’A Capone, Lil Jeff, CantGetRight, Lil Marc, Lil Mister, Lil JoJo, Young Pappy, Blood Money aka Big Glo, Brick, FBG Duck and most recently King Von.

This whole thing that we have going on right now really hits home for me. While I understand that these events have put a spotlight on this culture and city that I love so much, it literally hurts my heart to see another young man not fulfill his purpose in life. The climate in my city while being on the brink of the temperature dropping also coincides with the state of our minds, and the conditions of the hearts of the people whom I share this city with. Cold. In the midst of us deciding and arguing over our next president of the United States, I feel that there is a more serious matter at hand that resonates more and will impact legacies way further than the presidency. My city has become accustomed to murder. Gangster personas and pimp reflections are the narrative that is seemingly weaving their way into the DNA of The Chi. My heart goes out to those families that were expecting to celebrate life, the fruit of their labor, and the spirit of thanksgiving only to lose loved ones to senseless violence.

Many of these occurrences come from drill rap artists in places where young men and women fight for an invisible piece of the pie located in an area that they don’t even own. It is not my intention to respond as an angry and bitter middle-aged hip-hop artist and enthusiast, but from afar it feels like I’m watching a strung-out family member assuring me that they’re ok, but it’s obvious they are not. There is definitely a deficiency in the family structure department of our society, and we continue to see the repercussions of that. It is an outcome that I and many of my fellow Chicagoans have become familiar with. As we cope with the unfortunate death of Dayvon Bennett, I continue to grow weary of being optimistic that things will eventually change. I mean how do you hope for the best in the worst of times when times continue to get worse? As I look for inspiration daily, I can’t help but see the constant detour from destinies and dreams deferred. Many of these young people overcome extremely difficult and challenging circumstances only to never take the escape route and swallow their pride for the sake of provision. While we can go back and forth to make sense of why this is going on, whether it’s the environment, upbringing, or culture, it’s starting to become more and more apparent that the focus of our society is all wrong. While many of these unfortunate casualties will only be noticed for a New York minute, the effect will continue to defecate on the so-called American dream of my peers and predecessors. There’s a saying that says, “show me your friends and I’ll show you your future”, and sadly we’re seeing the result of that. This revelation continues to be pertinent today.

Most of these misfortunate events have been accredited to relationships and affiliations. The blatant disrespectful threats and prideful retaliations are not only being displayed violently and verbally via social media outlets but it being instigated through links of allegiance. This generation is emotionally malnourished, and they feed that hunger and appetite with destruction. We have somehow upgraded from having a crabs-in-the-barrel-mentality to kill or be killed philosophy. Rappers nowadays boast about how their crews hold them down and have a love for them. Confidants claim loyalty only to end up being selfish and greedy as we watch these journeys play out. I witnessed like millions of others how following King Von’s untimely death, those who claimed to be his friends robbed his home of his most prized possessions for the world to see. It raised a spiritual self-check in me. If I died in a spiritual sense, would my people do me the same way? Some of the biggest names in rap confess in their music how relationships and friendships change when one emerges from the ruins of poverty and dysfunction. This leads me to my reasoning for a response. While I cannot change what has happened, what can I personally learn and apply to my own life? What lesson can I learn from these instances that plague my community and generation? My takeaway is that I have to be mindful of whom I allow taking this journey with me. What vibes do my antennas pick up to those who confess loyalty? Are my commitments to chosen allies beneficial in both parts?  Lessons Not Learned in Blood Are Soon Forgotten. The Lessons from Which We Have Not Learned, we are Destined to Repeat. So ask yourself, are people holding me down, or are people holding me down?

1 Corinthians 15:33-34 The Message

30-33 And why do you think I keep risking my neck in this dangerous work? I look death in the face practically every day I live. Do you think I’d do this if I wasn’t convinced of your resurrection and mine as guaranteed by the resurrected Messiah Jesus? Do you think I was just trying to act heroic when I fought the wild beasts at Ephesus, hoping it wouldn’t be the end of me? Not on your life! It’s resurrection, resurrection, always resurrection, that undergirds what I do and say, the way I live. If there’s no resurrection, “We eat, we drink, the next day we die,” and that’s all there is to it. But don’t fool yourselves. Don’t let yourselves be poisoned by this anti-resurrection loose talk. “Bad company ruins good manners.”

Someone is out there holding their breath waiting for you to fail. Make sure they suffocate!