Skip to main content

Where men are made


Dad, take me where boys become men

A place unknown to cowards and villains

Take me where I can face my fears

The place where destines are realized

Where hope is faith and faith is bottomless

I know men are made there

I know you’ve been there before

Dad, take me to the great dining hall

Take me where you had your meals with Jesus

Let me taste the miracle wine

Show me the hall of heroes

Tell me the stories of Abraham, David and James Brown

Show me where your name will be engraved one day

I know men are made there

I know you’ve been there before

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Force of Divorce (part 1)

I don’t think we truly understand what divorce is and why God hates it. For example, if I gave you the Merriam Webster’s definition of divorce, the action or instance of legally dissolving a marriage , more than likely you'll find that definition insufficient. If you are divorced or your parents are divorced, you know that definition lacks depth and substance. It’s like a survivor of a devastating hurricane describing his experience as “I witnessed a tropical cyclone with winds of 156 mph that was accompanied by heavy rain thunder and lightning.” You know that surviving a category 5 hurricane is bit more involved than announcing a weather report. (Ask anyone who survived Hurricane Katrina.) And yet every survivor’s story is unique and personal. I especially believe we don’t get what divorce does to our children. I’m not saying that I completely understand it either. I’ve never been divorced, (not even close), but I do know how it affected me as a kid.

Eulogy (part 2)

My father never found his kingdom on earth. The multimillion dollar inheritance that he often spoke of with such hope and promise would never be realized. That two dollars and fifty cents? I still have it today. When I first discovered in his wallet, among his belongings, I wept. Such a proud and successful man should never die with so little. I now keep it among my prize possessions in honor of what my father did leave me. He left me with something greater than a kingdom on earth. He left me with a desire and a passion to be the father that he couldn’t be with me. He left me with a thirst for love and family. In the end when I think of my father, a number descriptions come to mind: bold, passionate, angry, driven. But I know that he loved me best way he could. In his own way, everything he did was for me. The way he lived his life and even the way he died. His cause of death was congested heart failure. Indeed my father had so much on his heart th

whatever

when you notice me do you really know it's me cause i'm a be what i'm supposed to be whether your near or not that close to me fact is, i really don't practice this and i can careless how black this is you can't charge me like paying taxes and turn around and ask me to act like this drag your feet, slur your speech grab your crotch before you teach i understand that's some of the things you see but what does that have to do with me seriously...like, i wanna know how many brothers do you know not all of us are quick, some are slow some, like me, say "four" some brothers say "fo" just because i say "for" don't make me no better i just know how to dress for the weather whether i need to be direct or clever if i'm still not black enough...whatever