With Rev. Raphael Warnock’s election, the first African American Senator from Georgia, I am reminded that they once told us we were 3/5th of a person. That the hue of our skin and the texture of our hair made us inferior. That generations were born and raised under the crack of the whip only to die without ever seeing the sunrise of a free day. That they believed their chains could shackle our souls, the specter of burning crosses could break our spirit, the gushing of fire hoses could dampen our resolve. That they could not believe that through it all, the flame that burns deep within us could not be extinguished. A flame that lights the path to not only our past, reminding us who we are and all we have accomplished but to that of our future and all we still have to accomplish. Today we stand on the shoulders of our ancestors who refused to be broken, who never believed they were 3/5th of a person, who were proud of the hue of their skin, and the texture of their hair. We stand here today with the knowledge that we are indeed Black, and we are indeed proud.
Last Sunday I spend a good part of my morning and afternoon cooking for the week. Italian meatloaf (really turkey loaf), Cornish game hens, collard greens, black bean soup and spaghetti with mussels. Rewind almost a year ago and I was recovering from a cardiac arrest. Those that were there have told me the Doctors on the scene worked to bring me back longer than they should of, the priest who stopped in to see me each day in ICU called me miracle man. My recovery was quicker than was expected. My physical rehabilitation progressed nicely. 3 months after the event I went home from the rehab center and shortly thereafter returned to work. A miracle? Maybe but more likely just another day for the Lord almighty, who chose to reach down and touch me and say not yet my son there is still work for you to do on this Earth. Now I won’t lie it hasn’t been smooth sailing since the event some days are better than others there are bumps along the road health wise. Despite that every day I wake and can see and smell the wonderful world around me and know of all the love my family and friends have for me, a love so apparent during my recovery and no doubt a major factor in it. For this I am truly blessed, blessed that the hand of the Lord has touched me and given me this second chance at life. Allowed me to spend a Sunday cooking for the week because despite what bumps may be along the way, in my mind I know He stands over me and will allow me to wake another day, so I might as well have something to eat on those days. I do not know what His ultimate plan is for me but I do know he has touched me and he is guiding me and for that I am eternally thankful.
Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to do so that we may do the things we want to do. As Spock would say it is not logical but it is often true.
With faith we never walk alone