New Year's Day...Everyday

Ahh...the dumb things we do to bring in a new year.  Get drunk and high out of our minds, only to be nauseous for 6 hours of the next day.  Sleep with a...uh...less than deserving person, only to hope for mutual confidentiality.  Shoot our guns in the air, only to pray that the cop a block over doesn't ask any questions.  Get $100/month gym memberships that last 'till February.  Get engaged to break up in June.  Some of us even go to church for a good show before doing all of the above.  All this, only to wake up in the exact same state...even though the Roman calendar told you that you have a new start.

vs. The Community

On Sunday, December 15, an 11 year-old girl was physically assaulted by a 16 year-old boy in a working class North Richmond, Virginia neighborhood.  When the mother of the girl notified the police about the incident immediately after, she was told there was "nothing they could do" and they did not send an officer.  Only after several adults from both families confronted each other did the Richmond Police Department respond...and they did twice..with a different pair of officers each time.  Through all this, no one was arrested, including the boy that started it all.  During the second and final visit, one of the officers inquired as to why this conflict hadn't been resolved.  The father of the 11 year-old girl responded to the cop, "if the first policeman would've done something, we wouldn't even be here.  But this 16 year-old smacks my 11 year-old daughter and y'all don't do nothing.  What am I supposed to do?"

The Art of Protest

These days are the labor pains that indicate the birth of something epic.  They are excruciating and difficult to breath through.  Sometimes they are pulsating, sometimes they are sharp, but they are always present.  They're here because local, national, and global corruption is close to boiling over.  The smell of restlessness is pungent  from a frustrated people, being fully receptive of the subliminal and deliberate information supplied during this age.  Poverty is used for intimidation...or suppression...or elimination.  The obvious threat of violence is as high as ever, but assumptions of biological control and restrictions on various freedoms are making the peasants anxious.  And even the democratic process is subject to bribery and political influence.  This air is of revolution.

Growing Between Thorns - Issue 1

Ahh...the great walk down the aisle to let the world (well, at least everyone who was at church that day) know that you're going to give your life to Jesus Christ.  Folks all clapping and smiling at you; praising God and stuff.  You're getting all those tight, sincere-feeling hugs.  Even the pastor that did that sermon just for you gives a firm hand shake and prays for your immediate success in life.  Who wouldn't join a church after all that fanfare?  Why not get involved in every ministry you can that the church offers?  It is the blessed thing to do.  Until you find out that those people who were congratulating you weeks earlier actually aren't heavens' angels; they actually are human beings.  And they too are the kind who are jealous, who lie, and who are manipulative.  It ain't that blessed now, huh?  The 'I love God but I can't deal with church folk' starts to make perfect sense...aaaannnnd it's time to exit stage left.

Secret Blessings

Although it's rare, the mid-March cold that's cracking Weldon's skin is bitter and relentless.  Strolling from corner to park to alley, his weariness isn't just limited to his physical status.  After months of experiencing this rock-bottom phase, it's now taken root in his spirit.  This is not the ideal time to be homeless and hungry, however.  With spring coming in a couple of weeks, there won't be  many community dinners or meals where the fortunate can "give back" until November.  And in this unseasonably freeze, Weldon's options are few.  Expressway exits are more productive than getting chased out of McDonald's because of asking for water.  So Weldon waits on the good Samaritan while being fully aware that most of them don't show up until Thanksgiving.