Category Archives: Religion

(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.


A Storm Deferred

Lingering rain droplets replaced the morning dew. The summer breeze enticed Angels’ tear drops to roll off the maple trees leaves. An acorn falls onto his shoulder, and he quickly turns about to see who threw it. There was no one there. He was alone again. 

He’d seen many storms and had come through several of his own. He was no longer afraid.  He knew that his walk was a lonely one.  His path was his own.  His perils were only temporary.  The storm had passed. All that was left were the drying leaves and the moist grass between his toes. 

He was refreshed…

Rise & Shine

Rise and shine, and give God the glory, Glory…

Before I awaken my resting Angels 
Before I walk out this door 

And inhale the air outside

I pray the Lord keep them by His side
We are blessed to have

each and every soul

That is in our lives

I pray He protects each of us

That He keep us

That He humble us

Empower us

Through wisdom

And Hope.

Through Faith

And Love


High(er) Heals

Weddings are beautiful.  The innovative ways the bride and groom bring their families together to witness the moment that their lives become one. The smiling pastor and the glistening bridesmaids are all cheerful in anticipation; the groomsmen laughing and trying to remain dignified (still recovering from the night before); the groom smiling from ear to ear; and the beloved bride…glistening in her glory.  

My eyes were filled with visions of hope.  My ears awaited that single phrase, “I do…”  I began to tremble when the bride recounted how her husband-to-be was always there, but waited until the sanctified moment to do what he was called by God to do.  He was obedient. She was ready.  Their story brought tears to my eyes.  For although I’d come close to identifying  with their romance, it was so special and so unique that it was certain that God had his hand on it the entire time.  

As a mere witness to this couple that I barely knew as strangers, my heart swelled.  I was inspired.  Could this be how true love manifests?  There was healing in this ceremony.  It was ordained and sanctified.  Blessed and sincere, I too just know that all the days remaining from this day till the end would be blissful for this couple. 

She spoke of how’d they’d met; how their circles of friends were intertwined, how’d they were destined to be together, and how they had deviated from their paths only to finally come together as one.  It was a love story created before either of them had been conceived. 

Yes!  Stories like this truly exist!

As they prayed, I felt a healing.  

My heart had ached for hours the night before.  I woke cleansed but it wasn’t long before that deep pain crept back up on me.  Certain to be doomed, I was pessimistic as I arrived to the church.  I’d actually called upon several of my brethren to pray for me because my pain was internal.  No doctor could ease my pain.  My discomfort grew into anger which blossomed into rage.  

I was in no mood for love stories or pleasantries.  I resented the smallest gestures of kindness and repelled any hints of a smile.  But as s man of my word, I arrived to the chapel on time to bare witness.  

I’m glad I did.  

Beautiful dresses, handsome tuxedos, scuffed shoes, broken heels…

There were broken heels, but all that was broken is now healed.  


It’s the end.  It’s over.  It’s a blessing. It’s the omega–the final word, the final exhale. 

And then with one more breath, it begins again.  With each end, there is a new beginning.  The ashes become dust, and the dust becomes the catalyst for new life. 

With every failed relationship, there is relief and a sigh.  There’s a long dramatic pause.  And then a fresh outlook.  

With every failed idea, a lesson is learned.  A brief sigh of relief–a debrief and a new beginning.  

Even something laid to rest has a chance to live again.  An idea, an opportunity, a friendship–all are an unfilled promise. 

“Energy can not be created or destroyed.  Matter can not be created or destroyed. Instead matter moves through the environment in different forms.”  My student becomes the teacher.  And this teacher is done…

…for today.

No Problem, Brother!

The blessing is in the doing–not the speaking.  There are plenty of folks, however,  who unknowingly trade in their blessings for recognition. That perfect attendance certificate at the end of the year (or the good Sumaritan award for being at the right place at the right time) merely affirms the good character that always existed.  But if there were no affirmations or if their was no reward at the end of a long journey, would we still perform the task? 

The pillars of character that we exploit in elementary school is a last ditch effort to convince bad kids that they should be good “even when no one is watching…”   Educators and disciplinarians, counselors and social workers struggle to instill a conscience that was formed long before the student was enrolled in school.

Mankind is not inately evil, but the premise of predestined fate sort of eludes effort.  Put another way, everyone has a responsibility to create their own outcomes. But if we could peek to the end of the story, we would.   

I have a resume that highlights a lot of my experience.  I interview well for new opportunities, drawing from a pool of accomplishments and achievements. But I don’t speak of my good deeds. Nor do I discuss the failures that brought me to be the person who I am today.  

My misdeeds are well noted in heaven (and in other places too, I’m sure).  My failures are learning experiences.  They drive me.  But I reflect.  I’ll entertain my audience with comical prose as I delighted myself in my whimsical ironies.  

Have you ever heard of the Business Sisters?  Nun-Ya and Mine-Ya?  They’re all in your business but they’re not in mine. 

Despite the fact that my stories are told countless times to an ever-critical audience, the real important stories can’t find their way out of my heart.  I keep them close.  They’re not fit for social consumption.  Those are the real stories that have formed the man I am today.

More than any anecdote, my most intimate stories will never be shared.  They are not glorious.  They are not revelations of truth.  They won’t be fodder for a blog or the anthology.  They are the ANTI-truth.  These are the stories that should die with me.  They are the bricks–walls that counselors can’t break; walls that lovers can’t climb; walls that not even the bestest friend can stomach.  

And yet those experiences at the heart of the untold story are formidable.  No one is only a product of their environment.  Merely a backdrop for the untold narrative, environment changes far more frequently than our hearts. 

Heredity and experiences have the meaningful impact on our journey.  The internal struggles fuel the external conflicts.  Atleast it’s the case for ME. And the story is Nunya Business.  🙃

I’m shedding my skin and I’ve convinced myself that I’ve got to get these stories off my mind before I loose my mind.  It’s hard to choose between the red pill and the blue pill when your belief system gets rocked. I’m clinging to an old rugged cross that is surrounded by serpents.  

Now these serpents are merely garter snakes under my feet.  But they are annoying.  They have names like Guilt, Polygamy, Arrogance, Doubt, and Ignorance.  They romance me and pressure me to have a little fun.  Like any persistent peer, they are committed enough to light the flame.  But they flee in the face of adversity.  

They’re not demons.  I don’t even want to entertain the notion. Instead let’s identify these serpents as friends, family, colleagues, and employers.  Why?  Because these are the people with whom we spend the most time and who demand the most of our energy.  

No stranger would make such demands or be so critical.  Nor would we be so inclined.  I’ve searched for new friends!  I may have found a few.  They too insist that I give of myself.  But I’m not alone. They are right there with me.  Pushing me. Pulling me!  Cheering me on (and supporting me when I grow weak).  They are my partners:  Innocence, Chastity,  Humility, Confidence, and Clairvoyance.  They are not always close by. 

Sure enough when they work together, their shade-throwing cousin Hypocracy is always hiding in the shadows. Decency usually arrives late to stomp the life out of my foes.  

This is surely a story that can be told, but an invitation to wind up is really a sign that it’s time to wind down.  

Long story short

The man said, “thank you.”  He owed me nothing.  As a matter of fact, he didn’t even know me.  But his gratitude was from the heart–not just good manners.  I was humbled to be asked to help.  My response:  “no problem, Brother!”

Defining My Humility

I’ve been warned that the devil has ears too. I’ve seen my blessings halted because I allowed the rules of the world to distract me. I’ve experienced the deception by loved ones because they’ve exploited my humanity.  The result of being open, honest, and transparent.  

Why should I be surprised.  My savior was crucified despite His love for the world.  He was crucified BECAUSE of his love for the world.  What would Jesus do?  He’s already done it!  I could only be…(insert adjective here). 

We teach our children that sticks and stones can break our bones, but words can never hurt us. You know the adage.  It’s one of the first things we’re taught in our formative years.  But words DO hurt.  The amount of physical healing pales in comparison to emotional recovery.  Coupled with actions, words can build a nation or destroy it.  

My words are carefully chosen.  When I make a statement, it’s well thought out and deliberate. My words are a direct correlation with my feelings. When my feelings change, my expressions adjust accordingly.  When I put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard), my words become meaningful–my emotions evident.  I am taking action.  My words are amplified.  And yet I remain humble (?)

There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance.  I am reminded often. My emotions are less balanced in the face of injustice. Im learning late in life that rational people find ways to justify their actions.  Irrational people are often perceived as incapable, insecure, or mentally ill.  Especially when their words do not match their actions, we may even conclude that they are hypocrites.  

Well I’m here to tell you, in the words of the late great Prince Rogers Nelson, there’s something else…the afterworld. 

What he didn’t tell you is that we’ve crossed over into the afterworld a long time ago.  There was no unified moment in our collective lives.  No definitive moment conveys the leap from the old life to the new.  For some, it’s the moment that they accept their salvation.  For others, it’s the birth of their first child.  

For me, it was the admission that the people I valued the most, cared for me the least.  Through their actions and their words I can no longer overlook the malice.  The innocence is on par with my naiveness. That single moment, my world was inverted. I’m sad to admit that it’s happened more than once.  It’s likely that it will happen again.  

Each time, I pray that the trauma will revert my life, my circumstances, and my outlook back to an innocent time.  I pray that my journey becomes more pleasant and that I will arrive at my destination bruised but intact.  Instead, each time I’m jilted, I become more jolted and more bitter.  I haven’t yet been able to return to the innocence. Trapped in the afterworld.   

I’m less humble than I was.  My life has value. I wake daily and thank God for another chance to let his light shine through me.  Every night I drop to my knees asking forgiveness for letting that light dim. Man sins daily.  I am no different.  There have been days I couldn’t make it past noon before I begged for forgiveness. I am humbled that He allows me to continue on.  I’m not worthy.  But in His eyes, I was worthy enough…

I am humbled.  Daily!

But my humility has a limit.  My humanity is no excuse.   Damnation is on the other side of furry.  Or is it redemption?   I can’t tell yet because I’m still angry.  My words are my sword.  My victims hemmorage.  I offer no solace.   

My pastor offered an explanation when I asked for prayers and spiritual support.  I told him that I take full responsibility for the wrath I bring upon myself.  I am the common denominator in all of my problems, despelling the notion of a spiritual attack.  To which he responded, “don’t discount the power of the enemy, brother.”   Evil is all around, it knows our weaknesses. Our human flesh is no match for world.  Thank goodness it’s the sabbath!  Time to recharge my spirit…

My humility is challenged hourly.  My triggers are more obvious.  My weaknesses are exploited.  But my evolution is anticipated.  My power unleashed cannot be tempered.  Everyday brings with it a new opportunity to hone my craft.  My humility is dissolving and my confidence has morphed in to something far greater than arrogance. My faith grows. My knowledge builds. I am more aware.  I am less afraid.  I am stronger, less tolerant, and more willing to take risks.  I am all things through Christ who strengthens me.  

I am unapologetic for standing up.  Not at all sorry for my words but eager to ensure that they are aligned with my actions.  How shall I remain humble and confident simultaneously?  By learning to say “thank you…”

So now the biggest challenge is discerning who is trustworthy and who is sincere enough to accompany me along my journey.  And the biggest threat is sharing this energy with the world.  For He is not the world.  He is the great I AM.