#KingLife

Last weekend, I watched my son and his teammates practice the art of civil disobedience.

In a close scoring, well-fought championship game, our boys are down 2 runs in the bottom of the fourth. Having gone through their line-up 3 times, the opposing team inserts a new batter, without notice, who had been scratched from the batting order at the start of the game. By all technical accounts, this is an illegal substitution and would count as an automatic out. Now mind you, we still have at least a 1/2 hour of baseball left to play, so every out and every run count. After a meeting with the umps and the calling over of the "commissioner" the act is ruled illegal and the out is granted. Our coaches return to the dugout to send our players back to the outfield. However, the coaches from the other team continue their "convincing" conversation with the "commissioner" until he pulls out his flip phone and uses a life line. After closing his phone, he reverses the call. 

Now I know there are some who are completely clueless to the reality of what I'm about to say. You'll dismiss it with, "It's a kids' baseball game," or "This isn't the major leagues, no one's getting paid," or my personal favorite, "Just let the kids play." Let me preface this post with a simple request: Miss me with your simplicity. Allow me to paint a VERY clear picture of the scene of EVERY tournament we attend: We are the ONLY black team...ONLY. And we're good...REALLY GOOD. Over the course of the seasons (yes plural...seasons) we have witnessed BLATANT disregard for the rules of baseball in the favor of teams that just so happen to not look like us. We've persevered. We've talked to our boys about what it means to be black and male in these "United" States. And they have played past each and every questionable call, tournament after tournament. Why? Because this is the life they will face as men...if they are blessed to live that long. 

As a result of the "commissioner's" clearly biased decision, our coach directed us to pack up. It was an emotional roller coaster from there. Watching the other team celebrate as if they had "won" the game, feeling empowered by taking a stand and walking off the field, while also watching our boys angrily pack their things with tears of frustration soon to follow. In our post-game meeting, coach gave a rousing speech about taking a stand and understanding their worth and value as young men..Kings. He talked to them about integrity and how we play the game. He talked to them about injustice, something for which we would not stand. He assured them that as they are still young Kings in training, it was up to us as overseeing Kings and Queens to protect them from ills like the one they just experienced. He told us all to go to the trophy presentation, where we would accept our awards. However, on the way out, each of our Kings placed those $2 plastic trophies in the walkway as a sign of protest. 

We will not accept second place in a game that wasn't played to the finish. We will not be pawns in an unfair game. We have trophies...lots and lots of trophies. We have wins, we have losses, we have presence, but we also have pride. And that pride will not allow us nor our children to stand by helpless and appeased while the "rule-makers" get to also be the "game-changers" time and time again. Nah. Not us.

And it is with this that our boys will develop their own faith. They will have their own testaments of it and reveal it to the world in their own way. They now know that they are more valuable than baseball tournaments and trophies. They are sons of the true and living King. Therefore, they will face adversity. They will have to overcome many obstacles. And sometimes, they will have to make a call. To stand up for what they believe in, no matter what it costs them. The truth of the matter is that the life lessons and cultural pride those boys gained that day far outweigh a trophy. Instead of being named tournament champions, they were officially crowned as Kings. Be Blessed XOXO

Barks and Bites

I used to hear stories about my granny all the time. She had a slick tongue and would talk her way OUT of most things, yet INTO some other things. I remember a particular story about a time she talked her way into a potential fight in the cafeteria, and her best friend wound up beating the girl up on my granny's behalf! Her kids would always accuse her of having all bark and no bite, unless it came to them...then it was quite the opposite!

The age-old adage of "all bark and no bite" basically refers to one who is all talk without action. You know the guy who does all the talking about their basketball skills and then gets dunked on after the tip? All bark...no bite. Or the girl who swears her cooking is so good it'll make you wanna slap yo mama, but it tastes like unseasoned bologna paired with original flavored off-brand rice cakes?!? All bark...NOOOOO bite! We as people have a tendency to say more than we should, bite off more than we can chew, so to speak. We are all talk, with little to no action to back it up.

We say that we love God. We claim to serve God. We talk like God is the center of our lives. Yet, we do very little FOR God. We recite scripture, but we don't follow it. We reference godly text, but we don't apply it. We sing all the "Jesus-tunes" but we don't use it to order our steps. In the words of the infamous Tribe Called Quest: Talking out they joints but they wasn't saying nothing!

It's time for some of us to push ourselves to a new level in God's love.  We spend so much time talking ABOUT God that we don't do enough FOR God. If we have faith in God, we have to make moves in God. Don't just talk about it, be about it. If we believe in Him to provide our needs, stop trying to control every situation and TRUST Him! If we trust Him to order our steps, then we have to WALK the path that He's set before us. If we are grateful for who and what he has placed in our lives, we should CHERISH them and RESPECT them by spending quality time with them, making them a priority, forgiving the hurt they may cause, loving them in spite of themselves, being quick to listen, slow to speak.  It's time to stop talking and start doing...time to back up all that barking with a little more bite. Be Blessed XOXO

Put it back where you got it from!

The other day, I moved Darnell's prescription while cleaning up. I thought I put it back where it belonged, but clearly I didn't, as he couldn't find it...for days. I apologized. He went to CVS to get a new one. No big deal. However, in a later discussion, he sarcastically stated, "You know how that could have been avoided, right? Next time, put it back where you got it from!" Why was this sarcastic? Because its kiiiiinnndd of a mantra of mine when ranting throughout the house as I search for something that doesn't even (typically) belong to me.

Kaleb: "Mama you know where my cleats are?"
Me: (bending under his bed) "You know if you put them back where you got them from, you wouldn't have this problem, right?"

Micah: "Mama where's my tablet sharger?" (spelled that way because that's EXACTLY how he says it)
Me: (digging through a crate of controllers and cords) "Did you put it back where you got it from? No. Wanna know how I know? Because it's not where it goes!"

Darnell: "Babe, you seen my wallet?"
Me: (digging through the pockets of the jeans he wore and left on the floor last night; yelling because he's asking me from the basement, refusing to make the trek up the 13 stairs from the garage) I'm assuming you checked your dresser. Where it normally is? (smart-alec-ish) You know...WHERE IT GOES?!?"

I mean let's face it, putting things back where they belong make life that much easier. You don't have to do any searching. You're not running later than you already would have been. You're ready. Because things are in their proper place.

It's much the same with gifts from God. Anything we are able to do, anything we possess, all that we have came from God. He is a giver. You can sing. God did that. You can rap. God did that. You have beautiful children. Yep, that too was God. Got a job? A little money in the bank? You guessed it...God. However, we have a tendency to not put our gifts back where we got them from. We don't sing for God. We don't rap for God. We don't raise our children to know God. We don't work for God. We don't give like God.

Once we honor that all we have comes from God, we become gracious. To operate in a spirit of gratitude is a humble and honorable space. It shows reverence for God's provision. It shows thankfulness for His care. When we honor Him by putting things back where we got them, He blesses us even more. What's this look like? For us "church folk"  it's simply tithing or singing in the choir or serving on the hospitality committee. All of this is fine and well, but there are other ways to honor God with what has been given to us. We can honor Him with our time by simply spending more of it with Him. We can honor Him with our money by being good stewards or by providing for someone who is less fortunate. We can honor him with our talents by using them to bring awareness of his existence and His love for all man-kind. We can honor Him with our work by understanding that when those crazy people at our jobs start working our nerves, we don't work for them, but as "unto the Lord." Nothing of ours was granted by us alone. The universe aligned by God's appointment to give us all that we have. Be sure to give back to Him what has been given to you. Be Blessed XOXO

Scars

The other night I overheard the #SmithBoyz talking at bedtime. Micah had taken a baseball to the face during a tee ball game and had quite a mark on his nose. After I applied the Mederma and cut out the lights, Micah had a pressing question for his big brother...

Micah: Kaleb?
Kaleb: What's up?
Micah: Is this sore gonna stay on my nose forever?
Kaleb: No. Sores go away and turn into scars.
Micah: Scar? What's a scar?
Kaleb: A scar is what's left on your body after a sore is healed.
Micah: I don't get it.
Kaleb: Alright. So...you know how when you first got hit in the face it was bleeding?
Micah: Uh huh
Kaleb: Then after it stopped bleeding and stuff, a few days later or something like that, it started to get a scab on it and be a sore?
Micah: Yeah...
Kaleb: And now it's like kinda flat and going away, but you can still kinda see it a little bit?
Micah: Like it's stuck on my nose but people can only see it just a little bit now?
Kaleb: Yeah...that's a scar. A scar is what a sore used to be. A scar is like a sore that's mostly healed.
Micah: How you know that?
Kaleb: Trust me bro, I got a LOT of scars.
Micah: But h-
Me; If ya'll don't zip those lips and close your eyes, we gone have some problems! Go to bed!

Although I had to go into "Mama Mode" to prevent as much morning mayhem as possible, Kaleb came through with a good word that evening. If you have a visible, physical scar on your body, I want you to look at it now. If it's in a "secret" place, be discreet. I don't need anyone getting fired or arrested for indecent exposure! As you look at the scar, think back to what caused it.  What happened? Did it hurt? Did you cry? Did you need stitches? How long did it take to heal? Is it raised? Flat? Faint? Undetectable?

Most of us are walking around with scars. Some of them are fresh and still pretty visible, others are faint and barely noticeable. Either way, most of us have scars. Some of us even have scars that are completely invisible to the outside world, but we know they are there. You see, when we first go through an uncomfortable experience, it hurts like hell. You are divorcing someone you once loved with your entire being. You are burying someone who you couldn't imagine your life without. You are leaving a job of many years and are now unemployed. You are watching a child you raised in the best love of God you could provide travel down a wayward path and make destructive choices. You've lost friends, love, money...some days it feels like you've even lost your mind. But then, as time goes on, you start to live again. Some days are better than others, but there are smiles where there were once only tears. More time passes, and you find yourself thinking less and less about the sore, and more and more about what's in store. Soon, outside of small triggers, you give little to no energy to that thing that was once so unbearable.

But then, there are the spiritual or emotional scars that we sometimes continue to treat like sores. Though time and space has moved, we act like the healing hasn't taken place. Therefore, we are giving unnecessary attention to something that doesn't require it. You aren't going to put Neosporin on a 20 year old scar. It's pointless! C'mon now...you're not going to put a Band-Aid on a chicken pox mark from 1983! So why are you holding on to the hurt and pain of a wound that time and God's love has turned into a scar? When those triggers happen, we spend WAAAYYY more time in the "sunken place" than we deserve. When God delivers us from the situation, in His time and in His way, we gotta walk in that deliverance. There will be times that we are reminded; our minds take a trip down memory lane. A song plays, a photo drops from a hidden space, a random text or phone call takes us to a place. Every scar that has formed in our Spirit has happened by God's grace. Don't ever forget that. We have been healed. So don't be haunted by the hurt and pain of the past. Understand that the scars simply serve as a reminder of the healing that has ALREADY taken place. We are Warriors. We are Conquerors. We are Victorious through God. Walk in your healing and Be Blessed XOXO