I Can’t Carry This Yoke, By Myself

I saw a family being baptized. And the tears came streaming down. Not quite like the blood #ofJesus, but more like a leaky faucet. Steady. Consistent. Unyielding. Same volume of water and salt in each tear. As sure as the spirit of God flowed in that place, those tears swelled in my eyes, almost matching my heartbeat.

And I wondered why? This was not the first time I have seen a person being submerged into their new life. Hello, my father #TheGoodReveredDoctor? Fathers. Sisters. Kids. All of them. Wading in the water, to be baptized, because they found religion #NoneButTheRighteousShallSeeGod. Each one, taking a single step, on the profession of their faith, in a God, they will come to know better.

We naturally select the wrong people, don't we?

#Amen.

Then it hit me…

¹⁴ Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? And what communion hath light with darkness? #IICorinthians6

I have often interpreted those words as being on the same page with the other person about everything. The big things, right? Marriage. Kids. Where to live. Which family gets which holiday. Music. Bank Accounts. All of that. Because it is never going to work if you cannot come to an agreement (not compromise, agreement) on these things, right? Ri-, Well…

Well. I suppose that is one way to see things. And if you do, then you are absolutely right #DoYou. It makes perfect sense to be in perfect agreement about all of that. Those are the things that some of the longest, happiest of lives are made of.

But, I think, it is meant for at least me, to make imperfect sense of it. Kind of like that family did. Part of me doesn’t really care if my somebody’s son #KSJ and I agree on all those things people say matter…

Marriage: If we are happy together, right then, right where we are, then what more could I want, right then? Nothing. Anyway you bless me, I'll be satisfied. #NameThatArtist

Kids: That’s what nieces, nephews, godchildren and other people’s tax write-offs #bitter #ItsStillTaxSeason are for…at least until we figure it out. Here’s to spending a life’s savings on candy, at Chuck-E-Cheese and at Build-A-Bear figuring it out! #WeAreYourGoToBabySitters4DateNight #MakingBabiesInBAB

Where to live: Now I cannot stand Delta Airlines. But, I love frequent flyer miles. You pretty much know where I’m going with this one. You can rent anywhere.

Holidays: We are not arguing over this one. We are following the sweet potato pie. That is quite frankly the only fair way to decide. Where the pie is plentiful, so shall me, myself, I, my heart and my fork be. Eating. From the middle. #NotSharingWithHim

Music: Thank you Lord for Dre Beat-Em-Up headphones and separate iTunes accounts. Not that I know exactly how to use either of those things. Fact is, they exist, so that our union might be blessed. I don’t care anymore about a musically unavailable¹ man… *in my Keyshia Cole voice* “I’ve changed my mind…”

Bank Accounts: As long as my card is not declined, what exactly is my issue here?? If DSW doesn’t have a problem, why should I? I won't. I will have trouble, however, finding a place for those shoes.

 #weseewhatyoudidthere

Because here is what matters, again, at least to me: On some predetermined-by-God day, we will wake up. We will profess our individual and collective faith in God and the unknown ahead of us. We put on un/matching white outfits. And regardless of the fact, that in our former lives we did or did not do this, we will approach the water. To be baptized. Together. …and get some of that good ole folks’ religion Marvin was singing about.

And something is telling me, if that yoke is equal, the other ones will balance themselves out in time.

With prayer. And fasting. And headphones.

_____

¹Musically Unavailable: [Myoo-zik-lee · Uhn-a-vey-luh-buhl] adjective: Quite simply, this dude listens to bull-ish music like Soulja Boy, 2 Chainz, and thinks that Puff Daddy is a better rapper than 2Pac or Nas. The hell? Nope. It was never going to work. Ever. You’re actually glad he’s unavailable. I wish I could lock this dude in a padded room while jazz played – Joe Sample, Charlie Parker, Horace Silver, Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, hell,  even Dave Koz...just music...no damn words! P-Diddy tho? Not on my watch. That Ciroc tho?? Genius. Pure (peachy) genius!

Paying Off All This Debt. . .

So, I guess we’ve got a theme for a day each week. We get churchy up in this joint. Let me define churchy so you know just what I mean.

churchy adj [church – y; chur-chee]

…of or pertaining to something I overheard in Church; a thought inspired by something I read in my beat-up Bible; idea that magically popped into my head about Jesus and I just started writing about it; a prayer that I should have prayed when I thought about it but #pride prayed it too late, etc, etc, etc…

On today, we’ll be talking about LOVE for a few reasons:

ü I write about it often. It’s simplicity perplexes me;

ü God is Love (that shoulda been #1, but I gotta be honest about when I thought about it, so);

ü CJC gave me a great idea to write about the Bible verses that have infected my heart; and

ü …that wretched day for singles (and some couples) is drawing nigh.

Before we begin, I have to admit a few things because I tend to tell on myself:

ü The words you are about to read, were only intended for this one person. They were his, and meant to be his alone. Because I said yes, to a question he asked January 31, 2013.

ü I cried #realtears re-writing these words. Just a few.

ü Last time I wrote about them, it was February.

ü Though we don’t mean the same thing, their meaning has not changed. They are the same, they remain the same and they will always be the same.

ü You’re probably tired of these lists and wanna hear it, so…

Here It Go…

There are two statements that I CANNOT stand to hear. First being, I ain’t gotta do nothin’ but stay Black and Die. I mean really Joe Clark? That’s ALL you HAVE to do? C’mon son! Believing in God or not, something tells me your life “to-do” list is a little longer than that. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve got a few other things that you HAVE to do. Get over it, and get’r’done.

Then there’s the other, Nothing in life is certain but death and taxes. Tis true, those things have complete certainty. You will die, and before you die, you will pay taxes. Either you’ll front the cash, or you will get your Lauryn Hill on. #trust IRS be on that Boondocks… They both coming, so get ready, Get Ready, GET READY! And seeing that people fronted those shillings in the Bible, and hello, Crucifixion? These are indeed true. But can they be the only certainties?

No.

And you have to do more than stay black or alien (or whatever you are) and die.

Sallie gets too much of my $$ already... #debt

So I was reading my tattered Bible one day and I came across this passage in Romans… Owe no man any thing, but to love one another: for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law. #Romans13:8 Paul wasn’t just writing to the Romans. He was tryna’ta tell us something too.

I had two thoughts immediately after reading that. First, this applies to “she” as well. See, they didn’t have an EEO compliance office when they wrote the Bible, so you have to fill it in sometimes. And number two, I can really go to jail for not loving other people too? Dang Jesus.

Then the real #important thought. We indeed owe the world our life and as Daddie says we will press a dying pillow one day. While I’m here, I’ll have to remain Black, though Michael Jackson almost proved otherwise. I’ll even pay taxes each year #H&RBlock #ItsTaxSeason. Because all of those things are certain. Necessary. Absolute. Required. They are on my life “to-do” list. But I never thought that love was part of my “things to do before you die” whether you like it or not.

                     

Those aforementioned statements about staying black, dying, taxes and ish have always unsettled my spirit. Always. I never knew why. I learned that fateful day as I came across that passage the reasons #EWF why. I am God’s child. I am my father’s baby girl (still, some 30 years later) and because I am them, I am love. I don’t have a choice in the matter just like I didn’t choose my DNA. Because I am love, I have to love. I owe it.

So, my “to-do” list is longer. And so is yours.

Don’t love something because it loves you. Or someone because they love you. Or shoes because you got them on sale and they make you look good. Or it, because you birthed it. Or even because it’s Valentine’s Day and Hallmark (another one of satan’s spawn) guilt’s you into it.

Love because that’s what you are. And you have to be what you are. And do what you are. And yes, everything about that will be hard. Love anyway.

…and you don’t want to go to jail. Orange is not the new black. And some of yall don’t look good in stripes.

Trust me.