He's a Fixer!

One of my most memorable experiences since becoming apart of the Highpoint family took place about two years ago. The Chainbreakers Prison Ministry had arranged for the Gospel Choir from the Metro State Women’s Prison to come and minister in one of our Sunday Morning Worship Services. Personally, I had been under a heavy load that week I had been carrying around those problems all week long, even to church on Sunday, and it made it difficult for me to enjoy the presence of the Lord on that day. I felt like my problems were a little more than I could handle. Or so I thought. Here came a group of about 40-50 women who had been incarcerated for many different reasons. They all, presumably, came from different walks of life, different area throughout the state of Georgia, and each of their cases were unique.
Being born and raised in Detroit (the “Gospel Music Capitol”) and being one who has been in church all his life, I have seen many choirs sing/perform/minister. I have seen the best of the best, and the less that best. But before that day, I had never seen a group of people come together and singer under such conviction and sincerity. They sang two selections, Stir Up the Gift & an original song, written by the choir’s musician (who was also an inmate) called He’s a Fixer. This song was such a powerful selection. It talked about no matter what problems we were facing in life, that God has all power to fix the situation. That’s why we call Him a Fixer. Needless to say, the more I listened to these incarcerated women sing about God fixing their problems, it made my problems seem less and less traumatic. If they had the faith to express trust and belief in God working it out, surely I could unload my burdens and give it to the Master Fixer. Before they could end the selection, the tears began to flow down my face non-stop. As I motioned for the usher to hand me a napkin, I noticed that their was not a dry eye in the building, for the pulled at all of our hearts in ways they will never know or understand.
The songs came from the depth of these women’s souls and it was certain that they believed in what they were saying. As they returned to their reserved seats on the side and up into the balcony, I noticed that their were prison guards supervising and watching their every move. If they needed to go to the bathrooms, they required a guard to escort them. How awful this must be. To be in the house of freedom, the house of deliverance, the house of liberty and still be bound. There was one lady in the choir I took special note of and could not stop watching her throughout the duration of the service. She seemed to be really enjoying the presence of the Lord, I mean really, really enjoying herself. Every chance she got, she was up on her feet, throwing her hands up, rearing her head back and really giving it her all. You could tell she was really excited just to be in the house. The more service went on, the more it seemed to get “gooder and gooder” to her, and it almost seemed as if she was going to burst with excitement. She was all into the praise, all into the other music, and all into the Word. The prison guards seemed as if they were unmoved by her actions, but obviously one of the guards had enough of her antics. He politely walked down the aisle, walked to her row, tapped her on her shoulder and motioned her to step into the aisle. He leaned over into her ear, whispered a quick word, and she turned around and went back to her seat, but the expression of her face was not the joyful one that had been there all service long. She slumped down into her seat and there she stayed until the service ended. Although I didn’t hear what the guard said, I could only imagine that he asked her to quiet herself down because she was drawing too much attention. He simply reminded her that she was not the free women she felt like she was being in the presence of the Lord. He reminded her that once the service was over, and the music stopped, and the lights were turned out, she was still bound. She was still property of the state, and she was still his.
Isn’t this just like the enemy? When your soul is in bondage, the enemy doesn’t mind allowing us to “feel free.” He doesn’t mind us coming to church anymore. He doesn’t mind us dressing up and looking the part. He doesn’t mind the smiles on our faces. He doesn’t mind us hearing some good music, hearing a good Word, and enjoying a good feeling. Because he knows, and you know that you’re still bound and you’re still his. Just when you’re in service, you’re getting your praise on, you’re worshipping God, you’re thanking Him for not letting you die in what you’re in, you’re right there on the edge of your breakthrough, the enemy will kindly walked down your aisle, find your row, whisper in your ear and you’re reminded of where you were before, where you’d been, all the mistakes you’d made, all the poor judgment you exercised, the lack of wisdom in your daily walk, and your whole mood is crushed. The enemy has reminded you that you are still his.

Hast thou considered my servant Kwame?

Ex-Mayor of Detroit, Kwame M. Kilpatrick, (2nd from left) with his resilient support system.

Wife,Carlita Kilpatrick at left, the Kilpatrick's Detroit pastor, Bishop J. Drew Sheard

and Bernard Kilpatrick, father of the

embattled former city CEO.

And the LORD said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? - Job 1:8 King James Version

For his first time in over two years, former Detroit mayor, Kwame Malik Kilpatrick allowed himself to be interviewed by radio news. Western Michigan's 103.7 is the first to boast an interview with the former Mayor since his woes in office, and eventual departure from public office, and ultimately, his exodus from the city he so passionately expresses love and concern for. Kilpatrick now resides in Dallas, TX with his wife Carlita and their three sons, Jalil, Jelani (twins) and Jonas.

In 2001, Kwame Kilpatrick became the youngest elected mayor in Detroit's 300+ year history, and this city third African American leader. Kilpatrick was presented himself to be a fresh blooded, passionate, charismatic and innovative native Detroit, which probably was his key to victory. He was elected to two terms as the city's HNIC, having almost served his second term in full, before his forced resignation, focused around illegalities and scandal around his name and administration.

I was once told by an associate of mine that I should not speak my opinions about the city or it's mayor, because I had moved away from the city and no longer should be concerned about the happenings there. I could not disagree with this friend more. Detroit will always be my home. Yes, I moved away over five years ago, but Detroit is a place that I care a lot about, and one day, soon hopefully,I would like to once again reside within the city that I love so very much. Furthermore, the Kilpatrick administration will always be a point of interest for me. From the moment he hit the Detroit political scene, Kwame Kilpatrick has left an indelible mark upon my mind. He impressed me from day one of his mayoral campaign. I was so impressed that in the summer of 2001, I dedicated much of my free time to volunteering at his campaign headquarters in downtown Detroit to ensure that this charismatic young politician seized the top seat of Detroit's political machine. Yes, that's right, the summer of 2001, before I could even exercise my right to vote, I was encouraging others to vote for this man. Even after his election to office, I still had a vested interest in his reign as mayor. During my first year of college, at Detroit's Wayne State University as a journalism major, I was privileged to land an apprenticeship at the Detroit Free Press (Detroit largest newspaper), where I shadowed city politics reporter, ML Elrick, who followed and reported Kilpatrick's every move, good & bad. So to say that I was now devoid of an opinion is far from what I think is correct.

Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind here and talk about Job. Job is one of the most well-known biblical figures from the Old Testament. Job was described,by God himself, as a man who was perfect and upright and fled from evil doings. Job was a man of great spiritual and material substance and his life of integrity had granted him with some of life's most prized possessions. He had a lovely family, much land and cattle. One could assume Job has a lot of money. He also possessed great wisdom and enjoyed communion with his God. Satan, (the enemy, the Devil, the Evil One) one day consulted with God to harm all of Job's possessions, as a test to see how faithful Job really was in his concord with the God he served so faithfully. God gave Satan the permission to do just that, but Satan was not allowed to harm Job directly. Everything around Job began to fall apart. His health began to fail him. His land was soon taken. His 10 children eventually die. The Bible is unclear as to what happens to Job's wife. Some Bible assume she dies, but it is certainly clear that Job's nameless spouse became disgruntled at the losses she and her spouse experienced and became not supportive to Job. (Chapter two, verse nine of the book of Job records Mrs. Job as admonishing her husband to "curse God and die.")

Amidst all that Job was experiencing in his life, Job never allowed himself to lose trust in God. He was that confident in his Creator that he did not lose or compromise his integrity. It is safe to say that all of Job's "afflictions" were not strong or devastating enough for Job to waver in his devotion to God and his reputation and integrity before mankind. Job's problem were not based upon his own personal greed, dishonesty and evil doings. Job's problems were not self-inflicted, for the were brought on him, beyond his control and by no consequence of actions taken by him.

Ok, Now back to Kwame. Tuesday, February 16, 2010, Kwame gives his first phone interview. In the interview, stuttering, Kwame heralds himself as a child of God & claims great love for his God, his wife & his sons. He compares himself to Job and in the same breath, Kwame quotes a voice from the Bible, saying "It is good that I've been afflicted."

Sounds good in concept, but I had to take a step back. First of all, on what grounds does the ex-Mayor feel it is okay to compare himself to Job. From his second year of his first time, scandal reeked from the Kilpatrick camp. Wild gentleman's parties at the city-owned Manoogian Mansion (the official residence of Detroit's sitting mayor) involving strippers and assault on stripper, an extra-marital affair with Kwame's Chief of Staff (substantiated with hundreds of text messages between the mayor and the cheif of staff recorded on city-issued cellphones), demotion of mayoral security detail that spoke up about the scandals and malevolence, lying under oath and millions of Detroit dollars improperly used by Kilpatrick and staffers. To say that he is a modern day Job would be a mockery to the Holy scripture, an insult to Job and a smack in the very face of God himself. After almost seemingly endless trials and hearing, Kwame eventually pleads guilty, resigns as Detroit's mayor and serves several months behind bars. He later relocates to Dallas, TX. His wrong doings eventually cost the city in excess of $6M and Kilpatrick enters agreement to repay the city, which he is yet having trouble doing.

Like I said, Kwame quoted Job, or so he thought. When Kwame said he was like Job, he went on to quote the man, but he actually quoted the WRONG Old Testament figure. It actually David who said, "It was good for me that I had been afflicted." (Pslams 119:71) So in other words, Mr Kilpatrick, you're actually saying you're not like Job at all, and I couldn't agree with you more.

I'm not going to go deep into Davd's history, but of his many attributes, possibly the greatest of these, David was marked in the Bible as a man after God's own heart. David's accomplishments, however, did not come without fault. The Peeping Tom glanced upon a naked woman bathing, was determined to sleep with her, and did just that. To make matter's worse, he had the woman's husband killed to cover his wrong doing, and fathered a child by the woman. Even among his evil doings, David ascened from being a mere shepherd boy, to being a warrior (giant killer), to muscian/poet (he is credited with penning much of the book of Psalsm) and ultmitately reigning as the second king of Israel.

Now if Kwame had've compared himself with David, rather than Job, I probably would have let the biblical comparison slide, but clearly he hadn't rehearsed his lines for the interview as well as he intended.

In the interview, Kwame also submitted that his political days were more or less over and done (oh really?!), but he does feel strongly that his God-given purpose in life was service to others. Now as someone who has been in church all my life, whose spiritual roots date back four generations in Pentecostal Christianity, the first thing that popped in my head, "Oh so, Kwame is going to try his hand at ministry now." I do feel that all have a chance for redemption and God can use us all, but I pray earnestly that this isn't a haphazard move as a way to regain public trust and credibility. Please Kwame,take your time, if this is in fact a "career" move that you're considering and ensure that this is what God desires for you to do with your life now. I encourage you to surround yourself with integrous men and women of God who can guide you in the direction you need. I encourage you to educate yourself in this area of spirituality, but clearly we see education is not the ultimate answer. If education would have caused you success in the mayor's office, you undoubtedly would have celebrated success as Detroit's youngest mayor.

But it is no strange phenomenon, especially in the Black community, for ex-convicts to develop a spiritual side after doing "hard time," I just hope this one is sincere and successful.

Peace: The New Way of Living

As many of you know, I am a server in the food service industry. Many of my fb statuses and twitter tweets are of the silly things I experience at work. To some, it may seem like I am unhappy with my job. Please do not misinterpret me based on some of the things I might chat about. Yes a lot of what goes on at work can at times be frustrating, but in the grand scheme of things, I am happy with my job. I make good money, my hours are wonderful and honestly I truly enjoy doing what I do. I've been doing this thing off and on (mostly on) for about the last seven years. I have experienced countless individuals throughout the years, some of which I will never ever forget, much like a group of women I served this evening. Now, I must admit that I some times prejudge my tables, based on what they look like and how they are interacting with each other, with the front-desk host, or whatever variables I can see prior to me approaching the tables. It's almost like a sixth sense, and quite honestly, I am usually never wrong. Now when I say "prejudge," I mean just that pre...judge. Not always a racial thing, but sometimes has every thing to do with race. Well, tonight, my last table of the evening, I had a group of 4 black women. None of them had wedding bands on, they weren't poorly dressed, they weren't impeccably dressed either. Just average looking middle-age women. Now in my mind I'm thinking to myself "oh lord, these ladies are about to runnnn me." I only said that because I recognized one of the women from being in the restaurant several times in the past. So I wait on the ladies, in my laid back, care free cool attitude. And just like I thought, these ladies ran me thin. I knew immediately that they were church-goers because of the way they dressed and the plainness and modesty of their hair and makeup. The whole time they were there, they were going on and on about The Kingdom, and what God was calling for etc. Church Church Church. Later I found out eavesdropping, that they were all ordained ministers. They kept commenting how much they loved my service and how cool I was amid all their neediness (lip service). They had some of the most unusual requests, even up until the end, when they informed me it was one of their birthday and they demanded I sing the birthday song solo, because as they say, "you look like you can sing." Now at this point, they had already been with me for 2 whole hours (average visit is around 60mins). They had already sent one entree back to the kitchen (having not even tasted it), ran me around the restaurant to see which tea urn had the sweetest sweet tea ("We like that ghetto tea!" [no lie, this is what they said to me]), took pictures of them, demanded more bread, shoved dirty plates and cups in direction. Just know they worked the heck out of me. After their dessert orders were in, their bill was up to $120, not including the $16.95 entree that had been comp'd from their bill. I could have easily brushed off the solo request and moved along, but I felt like being nice. In my 7 years of serving, I have NEVER EVER sang to anyone without of group of co-workers, but I decided to bite the bullet and go with it. I gave them my nicest, churchiest Happy Birthday Song, runs and all. They loved it. When it came time to pay, (3 hrs later), they informed me of how to seperate the bills. I cashed them out as soon as I could, and even after that, they stayed around for about 30mins. I finally was ready for them to go, and wanted them to kindly know that. I started removing everything from the tables, napkins, silverware, half empty watered down sweet tea glasses. Finally they got the picture and decided to move their conversation outside to a bench by the fountain. I collected up the check books and much to my dismay, they had managed to scrape together five wrinkly lifeless one-dollar bills. $120 spent and only $5.00 as a tip, less than 5%. Certainly not indicative of receiving the great, always smiling service. I was offended and insulted. I was so upset that my hands started shaking (thats how you know I'm REALLY mad). Bad tips are not foreign, so why had this one upset me so much? I had decided that I would march out of the restaurant, find them on their bench and hand them their money back. I had my speech and everything premeditated. I would simply hand one of them the singles and say "Ladies, leaving $5 is good for a $25 bill, but it's insulting to come to a restaurant, stay over 3 hrs, run the server ragged and then leave the $5 on a $120 bill, have a nice night." I finished my closing side work, took off my shirt and tie, clocked out and proceeded out of the front door. I only disrobed and clocked out so that if they did try and complain in retaliation, the tip-return and mini lecture had not happened on the clock or in my uniform and off restaurant property, so there would be little my superiors could do to reprimand me. I had my work shirt in one hand, and those same tired singles in my other hand. I was ready. As I walked closer and closer to them, I froze up and nothing could come out of my mouth. I kept walking pass them, and I could hear one say, "Oh thats why he was rushing us so much, he was ready to leave." I heard a strong voice in my mind say, "It's a new way of living. You're a new man. Let peace rule." I heard that voice as clear as day. I then heard the voice of my former manager Kathleen Murphy, "These people have the right to come in here and leave you $100 as a tip or zero dollars as a tip. Just because they show themselves to have no class doesn't mean we stoop to their level." Those words came from Kathy back in 2005 when I served at Red Lobster in Ann Arbor, MI. Kathy had just got done lecturing me for giving a guest their tip back. A lady gave me $2 and some change on a $90 bill. I returned the the $2-something to her and she said "Oh no baby, that's for you." I looked her square in her face and said "Nah, I'm good." The lady had the nerve to tell Kathy she was insulted by my actions. SHE was insulted. LOL. That was a terminable offense at Red Lobster, but Kathy liked me so she slapped me on my wrist and lectured me. I've said all of this to say that actions don't always require you to counter them with a reaction. Sometimes silence/peace is the best medicine to an offense. I told you all now that I've hit 25, I really do feel like I am in a new chapter. Others have remarked that I alot more quiet and reserved these days and I even notice a change in the way I respond to things. I do feel like a new man. Peace is such a beautiful thing. Thank God for maturing me. There was a day when I felt I had to address everything in my own way, but I've lived long enough to know that you don't have to respond to everything. Sometimes silence is the best remedy. Peace yall.

Welcome to my blog...

Hello world.
It has been rather difficult to start this blog. I've had struggles trying to find my voice, trying to find a good angle at which to start. I've not wanted to come off as too preachy or too churchy. At the same time I've also not wanted to be too open, not knowing what would be deemed as appropriate or inappropriate for my readers. Then suddenly, a thought dropped into my mind - THIS IS MY BLOG...lol. I can say pretty much whatever I feel like saying, without fear of retaliation or counteraction from any outside sources. I know that I have had a love for writing for several years now, but I must be honest. I have been lazy and lax in my gift, and I have made a promise to myself that I will make a conscious effort to write more, so here I go.