Category Archives: relationships

(Not) Making Love To The False Prophet

I shall use this as an opportunity to reference a lesson that I’ve spent the past three years learning.  When I thought that I was in the presence of God, I was instead being protected by him (which is far more personal). I endured a storm so harsh, others could not have survived it.  But I came through unscathed.

I’d been fooled and conditioned into thinking that I was on the path to blessings.  All along, however, I was being led by a temptress who called herself the dream maker. My naivety cloaked her harmful ways.  And although she could spew scripture and scoot in and out of sanctuaries unaffected, she was no angel.  To the contrary, she may have been a minion–a false prophet indeed.

I’m safe now, but she’s only begun to call upon the next like a siren.  The next guy is the son of a preacher man. That guy may not stand as a good a chance than I because, as a descendant of a holy messenger, the bounty is far greater.

I pray for his soul; that the Lord create a hedge of protection around him; and I pray that he is more discerning than I was.

Much has been written about false prophets, but as I searched for images, this is what I discovered instead.

False Prophets Mimic the Spirit of God!

The Story will be told by many men.  It will be a story of a woman who claims to be the heir to the throne.  She will argue that if she has to prove her legacy, her challengers simply lack faith.

She demanded that each man she tempted believe in her. In doing so, those “kings-to-be” will have a Devine connection to the Almighty.  It was believable.  I admit that I too conceded. I tasted the forbidden fruit, and it came easily. Am I condemned as well (for trusting this wolf)??

Do we chastise the ones who believe the lies?  Do we judge the fools?

God protects the children and the fools.  The children do not know better, but the fools are in peril because of their simple ignorance.

“Tomfoolery is alive and well,” she used to say!

In short, she was a liar!  Or was she??  She choose a narrative that was not genuine. And she sold it.  A sucker is born every minute…every minute that he spends with her.

Her entire story was a cover up of a life she choose to live–a life of ill-repute and a life of regret; a life that could have been forgiven by her Savior. She may never gain forgiveness because she choose to lie about it instead of testifying.

After searching many scriptures, this one gave me every certainty that I was in the midst of a raven:

“If a prophet, or one who foretells by dreams, appears among you and announces to you a sign or wonder, and if the sign or wonder spoken of takes place, and the prophet says, “Let us follow other gods” (gods you have not known) “and let us worship them,” you must not listen to the words of that prophet or dreamer. The Lord your God is testing you to find out whether you love him with all your heart and with all your soul. It is the Lord your God you must follow, and him you must revere. Keep his commands and obey him; serve him and hold fast to him. That prophet or dreamer must be put to death for inciting rebellion against the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt and redeemed you from the land of slavery. That prophet or dreamer tried to turn you from the way the Lord your God commanded you to follow. You must purge the evil from among you.”‭‭(Deuteronomy‬ ‭13:1-5‬ ‭NIV‬)‬

She inspired a higher belief in God (accidentally).  Having survived her clutches, I am affirmed that He protected me. I was bathed in the blood of Christ.  Her plan was foiled. She did not mean for me to get closer to Him.  She wanted my essence for herself.

While in the midst of a spiritual attack, during a fast or consecration, I would to say to her, “are you ReAlly surprised that these attacks would come now?” I’d say this to her each time we witnessed God’s glorious works; each time he protected us from certain destruction. Any time we weathered a spiritual attack, we knew He’d protect us.

She must have secretly been crossing her fingers.

My prayer today is simply that the Enemy release His hold on her life so that she not be destroyed nor damn her victims.

Peace be unto her, for I refused to sleep with the enemy nor make love to the false prophet.

Bartering Death for Life

Last will and testaments are designed to determine who will inherit a legacy (financial or otherwise) after death.  Often its contents are secret–revealed by an actuary.  Alas, the disappointment that follows the revelation that there is nothing to be had.  It’s fantastic though when someone is named in a will that might have otherwise been overlooked.

But what happens when the living use their will to manipulate a future that is uncertain?

When my father was alive, he made a statement to my mother. He was not at all worried about what would happen after death. He said, “if you die before me, I’ll have all your things thrown into a dumpster!”  He didn’t want to be bothered with the remnants of anyone else’s remains. It hurt my mom to hear this.  And when he pre-deceased her, it took years to sift through his personal belongings.  An eventual house fire finished off the job, and now we sift through the ashes (and the boxes of personal effects that survived the disaster).

The only will he left was one that was surely crafted with the help of a spouse, rather than legal counsel.  But it didn’t matter, because all he left us was a loan.  Not alone, but a LOAN.  Bills!

Fire insurance converted that debt into assets.  The last will and testament that once existed is irrelevant after years of recovery and acceptance of things we can not control.  His legacy lives on in spirit.  The circumstances that precipitated his death have been forgiven. We don’t stress over the recovery.  We miss him and reminisce about the the way he carried himself, his thoughts, and the impact he had on us.

He once told me, “death is a part of life, son…the end part.” He’d chuckle, but I would snare in the inappropriateness of it all.  He said if you ever want to know how much I love you, take a look at my will, and then he’d gesture to where in the house he kept all of his important documents.  I never had the desire to check.  It was irrelevant.  I didn’t realize then how much HE would be missed once he was gone.  No life insurance claim can compensate for that. There’s no grave to visit–no ashes to hold.  Only a memory and a whisper.  “If dad were still here…”

But his widow has survived.  All that was his was replaced with what is she has earned. Sweat and tears, a new legacy is born. Everything has changed but the address.  Photo reproductions line the coffee table as we look back, laugh, and cry.

Talks of a new last will and testament recur occasionally.  “How will we divide all of this?” Who will get the house?  Who will manage the affairs.  Who will liquidate the assets and pay off the debt.  Whoever volunteers is certainly entitled to a little something for their troubles.  I felt better about it when I was convinced that it was all trash.

But their are pictures…and memories.  Heirlooms and keepsakes aren’t replaceable, but the don’t have value to anyone but family.  I am reluctant engage in the plans because I don’t want any of it.  I resent that these talks elude to entitlements, requirements, obligations, and guilt.  I don’t want to behave differently because there is a reward on the other side of death.  I’d rather not.  I decline.

There is a guilt in not wanting be bothered.  And the grandchildren hear things that equate to spoils and unearned riches.  Is it fair to them to not consider their well being?  Are they not entitled to a hand-me-down or a piece of a legacy?

For some, a legacy is inherited.  It could be something as simple as a surname.  For others it’s a dynasty.  For us, it is neither.  It’s a burden…and an empty promise.  Good will and favor now will translate into an inheritance 10 years (or 30 years) from now. That’s a long time to pledge allegiance to an otherwise healthy matriarch.

If I had a choice, I’d give up any supposed riches for a nice cup of coffee and a non-judgmental conversation that is not disguised as a lecture. I long for genuine advice and fellowship. I choose life over death.


As I evolve, death still seems so far off.  With no will of my own, I can only hope that my own children will not sacrifice their character for a few cold bank notes.  I procrastinate the inevitable.  I hope that I will not fall to manipulating their loyalty in exchange for insincere elder care and a power-of-attorney.

I choose the living.  I will not barter a lifetime of wealth (and eventual death) in exchange for appreciation while I am alive.  I can not take it with me, but only my namesake will be my legacy.  The rest can be thrown away.


I don’t OU anything!

You made a promise to me, and then you renegotiated.  But you didn’t negotiate with me…you decided to collaborate without me;  with others–anyone who was willing to listen.  You weren’t conned by the others.  You weren’t  sweet-talked by the world.  Your sister-side slipped through. You left me high and dry.  But your pockets weren’t empty, and your hands were out for more.  Somewhere along the way, you convinced yourself that somebody owed you something.  

Entitlement is a bitch!

You listened to divorced women who showed you how to take half.  You enticed married men and asked them to protect you.  You bartered your children’s stability for a support check, and you convinced your lawyer that there was hundreds of thousands in burried treasure.  

You weren’t duped!  There was nothing but a hole that you left.  You instigated rage. You preyed on others hoping that you’d become a victim of retaliation. You instigator!

Now you want to go drilling for oil!  You want a second crack at the gold mine.  But you’re sloppy…

You didn’t get what you wanted so you came back for more?

But I dont O U (anyTHING). 

Woman scorned/man reborn. Avoiding you like the plague, not giving you anything to say–only now can I see what others saw right away.  You’re a fraud!  

Words do hurt. But actions speak louder. I’ve recovered from both, but only a fool would allow you to return for an encore.  You’ve given orders, but you are shocked when your commands are ignored.  You have no power over me or any another. But your malignant words irritate. You’re an irraTANT!!
Those who advised you are now long since gone.  Even their hot messes look pale in comparison to the damage you’ve created.   The alliances you’ve formed have withdrawn.  You are all alone, just like you left me.  You are not sorry, and I’m not sorry for you.  

8 years Gone

Cinco De Mayo is a fun holiday for some. It’s not Mexican Independence Day like so many believe. Nor is it the “Day of The Dead” like so many others suppose.  Every holiday has a special meaning to someone.  And some, for very personal and spiritual reasons, ignore holidays altogether.  For me, May 5 marks the anniversary of my movement from normalcy. 

On this day eight years ago, dissapointment and insecurity resulted in a failed marriage and an unexplained end to what I once knew.  Anniversaries are for celebrations, no?  So why does this day in May mean so much to me? 

Hours after the divorce agreement was signed by the judge, I sat across the dinner table from a woman who’d held my hand through the last months of the proceedings.  I knew that I was too damaged to marry again.  Heck!  It would be years before I could love again. But I wanted to thank her (and apologize for not being as strong as I should be). I told her that “if the Lord came down from heaven above and asked me to choose a wife…”  And then I stopped myself.  It was a statement that I could not complete.  Nor should I!

She held my hand, looked into my eyes, and smiled. She too was waiting for the next chapter of her life to begin. Nearly 4 years later she married another. And I’m not mad about it. I’m not embarrassed that I wasn’t a part of her next chapter. Instead I am almost jealous that my next chapter has not yet begun.  When that angel met the eventual love of her life, I was confused. What was my role in all of this?

I open my heart and opened my eyes and waited…

It would’ve been helpful to know what I was waiting for.  When I thought I was waiting for love, I really was waiting for peace. Like a temptress baiting me along, the world fooled me into thinking that my blessing was around the corner.  I was blessed all along.

Five years later I had hoped for better. This time I was more assertive. As a matter fact I was borderline aggressive and it did not serve me well. I demanded to know if this Cinco de Mayo would bring me a new outlook. I asked the question, and there was no response. This would-be lover could no better predict my future than her own.  

The lies and the deception and the confusion and the fear were all dimensions in my own mind. The tricky part about sharing your world is that you can’t always pick and choose what you share.  And just like any other holiday when we share our lives and our souls, we don’t know what we will get in return. It’s merely a celebration of life.

Today I morn the loss for a moment, and try again.

And so… Cheers to the world! Cheers to my friends!! Cheers to you. It’s margarita time!


After reading two different blogs about monogamy and online dating, I began to wonder. Like churning cream into butter, my mind began to churning concepts into ideas. How could I waste an opportunity to capitalize on my own opinion.  Two distinctly different concepts in the same day?  Stop the presses!

Now when I refer to two distinctly different concepts, I am not referring to the monogamy and online dating.  You see the past year and a half I’ve been blogging mostly as a way of creating an online journal. I decided to do this for two reasons:  a journal will allow me to document the plethora of emotions I’ve been harboring as I ascend to a higher plateau; and also to share with my family and friends how passionate I’ve become about the events surrounding us.  

I was once reminded that the difference between small minds and intellectuals is the content that we discuss.  Small minds gossip.  Intellectuals focus more on events rather than individuals.  So my quest began.  And through journaling I’ve strengthened my mind (or so I’d like to think). 


Earlier today I wrote a poem about love. I was feeling nostalgic and sentimental.  Enamored with my past experiences and excited about what is to come, I was inspired to write a little ditty.   It will be years before its appreciated for its true worth, but it did earn me a few new subscribers.  Sometimes I just can’t predict my own success–and there’s a blessing hiding in that as well.  

One of my subscribers herself wrote a blog today about monogamy.  I could relate.  I enjoyed it–so much that I reblogged it, which is a gesture of appreciation and praise.  But then I read on.  Another piece referenced sexting.  She had my attention!  Not for the reason you might think though.  

We are in an age that evolves so quickly that we don’t even have time to learn a lesson from technology.  Too quickly the dilemma morphs into another life-lesson that needs as much attention as the last.  I can only imagine the terror that other parents, educators, and youth advocates experience trying to develop a set of rules or internet policy that protects our children.  Heck! We can’t turn the damned radio down quick enough to guard their ears from the violent/erotic nature of pop music.  How can we effectively protect them from the internet. If you don’t believe me, Google  Nothing is sacred!  

So it only goes to suggest that children who can not make good decisions on their own are destined to make some interesting mistakes.  And yet they won’t learn from our mistakes because we are too embarrassed to reveal them.   How do you warn a kid about sexting without referring to a lapse in judgement that “someone close to us” has made?  Not so easy.  

How do you warn a teen of the dangers of promiscuousness without referring to the mistakes of our own formitive years?  Let me know how THAT works for you.  Any better than when your parents tried to teach you the importance of abstinence??

Now take those same lessons and transfer them to how we need to behave as consenting adults.  Ah this is when the hypocrisy becomes bolder.  We begin to lip, “Do as I say…”

We’ve seen our use of the internet evolve.  The web connects us to share all kinds of information that has all kinds of intrinsic value.  Intellectual content, entertainment, political, sexual and social. How we use this information is an indicator of how we’ve grown individually and collectively.  

Some of this information exchange has enhanced us as a culture (webMd), while other exchanges brought us social media (MySpace, Twitter, and Facebook).  The latter we rely on more frequently to learn of world events as they occur.  SnapChat was once a way to temporarily convey illicit content.  Now it is embraced as an effective marketing and networking tool. and Chemistry have taken the mystery out of online dating; while normal texting on “old fashioned flip phones” has devolved into sending “private” photos that never die. 
Imagine, if you will, that this technology that has become a part of our everyday lives has in fact enhanced our lives. What if the flow of information, despite its incredible speed and volume, forces us to read more.  What if it requires us to be more critical, less gullible, and better informed.  Think about it.  There’s no question to which we can’t find multiple answers.  

We know that we can use Wikipedia, but we also know how not to trust everything we read.  We experience video through YouTube and TEd at a rate so alarming that we rarely buy our entertainment or educational content anymore.  Playboy magazine no longer prints nudity because that type of content is readily available online for free, forcing the pornagraphy industry to adjust.  The movie industry plans for bootlegging by prepping films for simultaneous release on Blueray while cross-marketing books, clothing, and apparel to recoup the production costs.  Professional development for educators, public officials, doctors, and lawyers no longer rely on academia.  Instead a steady stream of content is uploaded from their handheld devices.  

The list of evolutions is enumerable. One thing is certain:  we will personalize our use of data, online, and mobile content.  The same public figures that advocate for positive change (and plead for our votes) use their smart phones to send inappropriate content to undisclosed recipients.  Use your imagination here. 

We are more connected than we’ve ever been. Better informed, more mobile, and less restricted!  And yet we are the most disconnected from traditional values (and each other) than we’ve ever been.  

Perhaps this is the best way to offset the population explosion.   Imagine. How packed woukd the bars and night clubs be if that was still our most reliable way to meet a partner?

So let the use (and misuse) of the internet continue.  After all, the same conservative mindsets and religious zealots that warn against its dangers are using it to spread their message.  We’ll have to develop our own levels of discernment and draw our own personal lines of decency–because the same mother who cautioned against polygamy, promiscuousness, and pedofiles just accepted a proposal from a guy she met on (using the newest app on her iPhone).