Thankfulness

I'd stare at them, face askew and tilted, while they jumped up and down, eyes swelling and hands stretched, as to reach the ceiling or some invisible apparition to which I was not privy. It was comical, and sometimes frightening to see bodies, once under human control, now limber, serene, connected to the unknown. They'd cry. More than cry. They'd weep - a stream of tears so genuine that it felt foreign to me. I was not a part of this community though I sat rows away from these sights and sounds. But how could I understand? I was someone who had sworn off emotion as a coping mechanism to maintain some socially constructed idea of masculinity. How foolish was I.

Some of them would run, a fire lit ever so strategically in their shirts near the position where the heart lay behind the rib cage. They would pant. Others ran to extinguish some burning that had taken hold of their feet. I had never felt it, so why did they. This too was funny - and yet frightening.

I'd turn to my grandmother on these Sundays, face shown with half amusement/half curiosity and I would ask "Why do people do that? Why do they act like THAT?" She'd calmly turn to me, bright chocolate face with the whitest pearls of teeth, and she'd whisper, "Baby, you gotta go through somethin' to understand why people act like THAT."

That message, though simple, never left me. But it also didn't make sense. Go through something? How unfair -  that my belonging to a group was dependent solely on an experience I had yet to have. I wasn't sure that in my lifetime I would ever go through something. I'd never be a part of THAT community.

I was wrong.

In reflection, now, I can see that my grandmother never put a stipulation on the act of praise, the outcry of pure thankfulness to the creator. I made that part up. She was simply putting life into a perspective that I, as her sheltered grandson, could understand.

Now after all these years I get it. I get the reason why, when a certain song is sung by a choir or soloist, one can't keep still. Why sitting and thinking about the possibilities of life and how the negative ones have been miraculously avoided can cause someone's eyes to swell with tears. I now know what those people were reaching for. There's never been an invisible force or apparition. They were simply doing what they humanly could to be fully immersed in praise - to show the creator that they, indeed, were

THANKFUL.

And grandma was right (Ms. Agnes Brimmer always was).. I had to go through something to truly understand. To be catalyzed into a community that knows that nothing that occurs in this life is a random, chance happening.

I sit sometimes and experience those tears of thankfulness. I imagine the many times God has pulled me out of the worst situations and placed me back on my path. How despite my shortcomings and those of my family, community, and city, I am still able to receive new grace and mercy everyday.

To feel like I can't fail because I'm covered, protected, shielded from harm - for this I'm thankful. For a loving family who supports me in my endeavors and when I fail - for this I'm thankful. For a breath of fresh air, a body free of disease and ailment, a working mind, countless second chances - I AM THANKFUL.

I could go on and on. But just know that I am and have always been a part of that community of thankfulness. It just took going through something to reveal that to me.

fin.

Prayer and Praise: A Year In Reflection

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name....

I grew up saying this prayer. And yet, before this year happened, I never grew to make this prayer a true prayer, a personal experience - a conversation between me and God. My praise, as well, was restricted to me saying 'thanks' to God for answering my prayers in a fashion I deemed appropriate. Immature at best.

But, what happens when I make the hugest decision in my life up to this point, leaving a life, career, comfort, and existence behind to follow God's voice? To put pure faith to the test in light of EVERYTHING telling me I should run in the exact opposite direction? 

In this context, prayer and praise HAD TO CHANGE. They had to grow.  They had to become owned experiences, personal occurrences that were birthed from the most vulnerable, sincerest parts of my soul. 

I stand today triumphant, and honestly it is a triumph that I know could only come from a God of infinite power and unconditional love. 

People see my smile - I wear it purposefully. But what they wouldn't be able to comprehend is what the smile masks. See, prior to going to pharmacy school, I was fired from a job for making a horrible judgement call. And while my heart and intentions were honorable, my methodology was irresponsible, callous and foolish at best. Along with this, I lost my condo. Bills and payments were piling up on me and I simply couldn't afford the expenses of life. I hid my depression from everyone, embarrassed by the reality of my humanity. For someone who had been so successful before in life, the brick wall of failure that I ran into at 100 miles per hour was a wake up call that affected every atom of my being. The RULE: tell no one but my mother. But I learned quickly, that the truth will shine bright, even if locked away in a dark closet. 

I was not in control - like I thought before. I was not above failure - like I believed. I was not incapable of lying and bringing grief to those who trusted me - like I claimed. I had been and done the exact opposite. 

And yet, God still loved me. 

My prayers had no choice but to become an outcry, a reality session with my humanity, my imperfections.  And slowly to my amazement, I started noticing God's unconditional love materialize in ways that I couldn't and wouldn't have ever been able to predict. 

Slowly, I started losing 'friends,' people who I thought would stand by my side as I had done theirs so many times before in their moments of failure. This wasn't the case. He allowed me to see that these people were friends with an image, a facade - not the real Johmyrin. I shouldn't have expected much more from them than a 'good time only friendship.' And therefore, I needed to be rid of those connections. But, my healing from this didn't stop there. God allowed me to love them in spite of their criticism, their backbiting, their treachery of my loyalty. He allowed me to forgive, genuinely - lovingly. To let go the hurt I felt so that I could make space for real, long lasting friendships. 

Next, God gave me a home to replace my house. He put me in a situation where he could answer the prayers of a 14 year old version of myself, a child whose main prayer was to live with his father, to grow to understand why I did certain things like sniff uncontrollably or laugh contagiously at the smallest things. Now I know. I see my reflection in my father every day I wake up. Only a loving God who listens could do something like this for imperfect me. Words will never be able to express my appreciation for God being just who God is. 

Lastly, in my search for forgiveness and true repentance, God gave me a job opportunity that wasn't just immediately valuable but that will impact my profession in ways I don't think I have even imagined. Only God. 

So, my PRAISE had to change. 

I reflect now and tears start to flow - genuine tears of thanksgiving. Tears of Praise. I'm doing okay. Actually, I'm doing extremely well. In all that I have lost, what I have gained is so much more valuable. My discernment is clear. My connectedness to what is good in this world is strong. I am empowered by my own ability to understand that no one in this world is perfect. That we all fall short. But that God's love is real and active - everyday in our lives.

I know I've just begun this journey. There's much more to endure. But I see victory. I feel triumph. And at the end of the day, I know that this year has been about God making me into the man I need to be to do his work. I don't know why I've been hand-picked, but God's been too good to me for me to dessert his promise now. 

My prayer and praise is real.  

fin. 

"You aint special!": Life Lessons in Real Humility

I'm not sure about most people, but for me, humility has been the most passive expression. It's what I don't do in light of others. What I shouldn't say at key times. How I shouldn't behave in certain situations. 

For instance, humility has meant, not talking about my GPA when others around me struggle in certain classes. Or, not boasting about opportunities I've been granted in light of so many who needed those same ones. Not talking about my salary in a public arena. Etc.  

What.The.F*ck.Ever. 

And then, like most of my 'coming of age' experiences, I woke up with the sour, lasting realization that I needed to make a major paradigm shift in order for me to adequately survive AND live in this world, as it unfolds in front of me.  

I've been doing this thing called humility all wrong - as if it was something to do and NOT a mindset I should freely accept. This whole time, I've treated courtesy as humility. And now. I can see they are totally different. 

Let me give you some background on this: See I was raised with everything I needed and wanted - much of which I was not required to work to get. I asked for things, and, most times, they were given to me. I was a 'good person' and I treated others with respect and dignity. Therefore, in my mind, I deserved all the good the world had to give. People should want to be nice to me, should go out of their way to treat me fairly, should act in my best interest, and should feel obliged to choose me over others because I 'worked hard.' 

Ha. 

No one ever took the time to tell me that the world doesn't quite operate like that. 

Who cares if I'm a good person or that I work hard. I'd like to believe that the vast majority of the people on this planet subscribe to those same two descriptors. There were plenty of good, hardworking people in the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001. Some excellent, creative, beautiful spirits that rested on the coasts of Japan when the Tsunamis hit in 2011. Vibrant, good-spirited individuals who camped in the Waco, Texas compound run by David Koresh in the early 90's. And yet, all these people - each and every one of them, were the inheritors of ill-fated tragedy.  

Now I can honestly say that "I aint special" and smile courageously. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. And I may inherit the mistakes of others at some point. 

See, I've asked "why me" for far too long. "Why, Lord, am I going through this?" "Why me, out of all the people on the planet?" 

Foolish, man. Simply foolish. Because at the heart of my complaint rested something that was the antithesis of humility. Some subtle spirit of selfishness. The true question I had been asking all along was "Why not someone else?"  

I've felt this sentiment way too often in myself and people I've met throughout my life. And while I can only pray for their "Come to Jesus" moment of awakening, I have full power over making positive change in my own life. 

"I aint special" and it feels great to say that. I realize now more than ever, that I live my life on borrowed grace and mercy from God above. By being granted a measure of favor that should be acknowledged and appreciated. By pains and inconveniences that are sharpening me to be the sharpest knife in the drawer. 

I've learned that, ultimately, humility is about being genuinely thankful in knowing that though you are not special inherently, God specializes in using the imperfect, downtrodden and underprivileged to be vicars of his infinite love. 

No. I aint special. But I've been called to do special work. 

And I'm okay with that. 

fin.

Enemies in Friend Clothing

"Some people are meant to stay in your heart but not necessarily in your life." 

Powerful - and true. For any zodiac sign, except mine. 

I lost my best friend in the world at age 12, therefore, I call very few people 'friend.' And even then, I do so with caution. It has recently come to my attention that one person I called friend has decided that I not the person I have portrayed myself to be. 

interesting. 

Now granted, in past posts I've openly admitted to being someone very unhappy with who I was. The result - my open and ugly use of the power and trust people had put in my hands. I've since asked for forgiveness from as many people as I can. Knowing now who I am as a person, friend, and brother, I just can't live that life any longer. I've repented to God above and I feel like his love has granted me a clean slate. 

So how is it that even though God forgives me, this friend (who professes to be a man of God) can't do so himself?  In fact, he has gone above and beyond to not only harbor these feelings from the past himself, but to transfer his distaste for me to others. Effectively, he has made my wrongdoing seem to be a condition of my character and not a fault in my actions. 

Seems ironic to me. 

It always those people finding the greatest fault who are completely blinded to their own. Not the fact that I have looked past this friend's molestation attempt or this blatant disrespect for people I love, but that I have taken a nonjudgemental stand seems to have me a bit frustrated. 

I should let it go. Give up the friendship. Right? But a part of me that has always and will always be loyal simply can not extinguish a torch that I so fervently lit. I'd like to say that I am leaving this one to the master. But a part of me feels like I should say something, point out the fact that folk can all of a sudden become so self righteous that they can play judge and jury. I guess it's the easiest way to forget their own sentencing is around the corner. 

Ah well. I assume that one day (soon) the truth will surface, make all of us free and he'll hide in the recesses of life as usual. 

I await the verdict. 

Standing to fall, gaining to lose....

It always happens in my wrist. A tingling that I can't control. Both cold and warm. Unnerving. But, for the longest time, it's let me know that tears are coming.

if I grab it while it's happening, however - then, I can stop it. Or at least delay it long enough to remove myself from a large group of people. For so long, I've compartmentalized my emotions - the way people do with traumatic events. It has been my survival mechanism. Because boys don't cry. 

Another lie I have checked off my list. 

As this year comes to a close and as my birthday approaches, I'm forced (by habit) to take serious reflection. Even in typing this, I know my interpretation is near-sighted. My faith is compromised. My understanding is limited by my circumstance. But I'm human. Flesh and bones, nerves and tissue. A being who was made to live in order to die. 

In reflection, I find myself questioning how much worse the year can find itself in my eyes. How much more can I lose and legitimately not lose my mind. How many times I'll stand on my own to feet only to be knocked down to my knees. Why I try to lead by example only to be ridiculed. How I can build up a reputation of excellence only to destroy it in one fell swoop. 

yada. 

yada. 

It's traumatic - for me, at least. Someone who has always been successful and great at most things I did, to lose at a task hits me like a sledge hammer to the face. Somebody please pinch me. I want to wake up from this reality and return to that place of success. The irony in it all is that every fucking person I have talked to and met, always seems to think that because I have degrees and am pursuing my doctorate that this justifies me as 'successful.' Nawh, not quite. 

I've always been accomplished in school. Life, now that's a different matter altogether. Success for me is surviving the day-to-day without crumbling or falling apart. Making a comfortable life for myself and family and managing the alienation therein. Establishing an independence that at some point justifies me as a man. 

I'm just not there yet. In my eyes, I'm far from it. From it all. 

And unfortunately, I have no solution as to how I should go about developing these deficiencies. 

I would hate to start 2012 in the same slump I'm ending 2011. 

sigh. 

no fancy ending. just a sigh. 

Losing the battle to Win the war

I'm living in the 21st century, Doin' something mean to it, 
Doin' it better than anybody ya ever seen do it
Screams from the haters, got a nice ring to it.  
I guess every superhero need his theme music


No one man should have all that power...... STOP 


Now, I'm fully aware of what point Kanye was getting at here. Self-bolstering, reflective conceit meant to beg the question about his own right to power. Right. I get it. 


However, taking the lyrics as they are, I think Mr. West is onto something. 


power [pou-er] noun

1. the ability to do, act, or perform above others or other things. 

Kings. Queens. Bosses. Athletes. Celebrities. Christians..... All titles of those allotted with power unmatched. Wait. Christians? How'd they fit into this scenario? 


We're living in a time where we are a generation of fools, stronger and more advanced in our access to information but lacking wisdom enough to sustain the world we live in. We react out of fear and the emotional inconsistencies around us, And we have completely forfeited our right to a power that has been instilled in us long before we were even imagined. 


The monotony and homogeneity of my generation speaks to our ability to join together collectively in amazing ways but it also speaks to our inability to question the status quo. We easily let social networks like twitter and Facebook control our lives, become new addictive distractions that take us away from our productivity. We let scripted 'reality tv' generate our ideas about family life and social interactions with our fellow man. We let texting and FaceTime replace genuine communication, a degradation that has been at the core of our loss of true spirit-to-spirit connectedness with our fellow man. It has taken little more than the celebrity popularization of the smallest concept to get my generation to 'jump on the bandwagon' of the next fad. 


I've decided to be different. 


Today. This very day, I've decided to fully inherit what power and strength was meant for my generation. I'm disturbed though at how reckless I have been, we have been, at using the gift of power. I've torn down those closest to me, those I've called brother and sister, foolishly misunderstanding that at the core of hurt IS hurt. For too long, I've been unhappy with the person I had grown to become - unhappy with my weight, the way I looked, my need for attention, etc. In my outer circle, I surrounded myself by 'yes men and women' who were obvious choices for my self-degradation. Worse than this, I placed in my inner circle individuals with whom I shared similar blockades to power. Popular for all the wrong reasons, drowning ourselves in alcohol, self indulgence, and an elevated sense of self, and making a conscious commitment to being surface individuals to those who might need our ministry - we created a life that many would covet and yet we were losing out on our calling. 


By simply sitting around and gossiping, I gave my power away. I let the wrong spirit become material in the lives of others while, concurrently, darkening my heart, destroying the essence of what I knew to be my true self. And then it hit me. I AM NOT EXEMPT. If those I called 'friend' would sit around and gossip WITH me ABOUT others, then on mad day, those I called 'friend' could talk ABOUT me WITH others - just as easily. It's the bargain recklessness makes with the promise of a power strong enough to topple mountains. 


I've made a choice to take back my power. I vow to uplift others, even in times where they condemn me. I want to learn to speak blessings and life into the existence of others. 


Who knew Mr. West was actually a preacher! Let's take back what's ours! 


fin.

Pond Water

It feels like I've stared for several years in pond water, foolishly trying to capture a glimpse of the real me. A glossy fractured image of a once focused, vibrant, energetic me lay somewhere in the dense folds of nature's calm. There have been times when I've dared to look away, to see that maybe what the world is showing me just might not line up with who I really am. But, I've been a coward - afraid to tap into that which was infused in me a millennium before I was the faintest concept of my parents' love.

And yet, I saw it last night. I recklessly and intentionally looked away from the pond water, finding myself in a room of mirrors. Large cascading mirrors that surrounded me, threatened me with the truth of who I really was against the person I had become. It was in a single moment of vulnerability that I found MY truth laying between the facade of me and a portrait I keep to remind me of my innocence.

There it was.

There I was. Am.

So many relationships, friendships, and connections I have made with people have been founded under the guise of someone who isn't me. I've been so closed to mostly everyone. And my practices as a person haven't aligned with my character. I've hurt people - some intentionally. I've entertained foolishness at the cost of friendship. No more. I've become lazy, unmotivated and out of tune with that which is greater than me. That ends today.

I'm tired of being one of those "daddy wasn't there" kind of people who let their life's story be less than a powerful indicator for change and appreciation. I want to go beyond what my foundation is and write my own story. I guess it's no coincidence that I'm embarking on my passion through pharmacy.

Clarity and purpose must go hand in hand. I've got both - now. My heart is open to love, though I am not forcing it. My mind is going to be enriched by more literature and study than social media and foolishness. I am pushing my body's physical self to the limits! It's as though I've been reunited with an old friend.

 So, let me introduce you to me, the real me:

Johmyrin Joshua Johnson.