Our last “big” summer event. I was looking forward to having my core group of young men out to camp. I’ve invested a lot in them the last several years. Many of them I’ve known since they were babies.  I like to think we’ve developed a bond, like family.  I’ve sacrificed a lot to allow them positive experiences of childhood in the midst of lives of stress and struggle.  Me and Lisa have seen them through shootings and gang violence, family and social dysfunction, institutional barriers to success, and plain old bad choices.

The theme at Manhood Camp is “It takes God to be a Black Man!” We deal with physical, emotional, social and spiritual aspects of what it means to be a Black man. Camp was great. We’d been fishing, swimming, eaten good meals, played games, played basketball… even went inner-tubing behind the camp speedboat. We’d had meaningful devotionals and worship times.

But, a disagreement with one of my guys brought to the surface some deep emotional issue and blew out of proportion.  I’ve done this many years and I realized the emotional turmoil from this conflict was likely to cascade from one camper to another and I didn’t have the support there I needed, so I decided to cut our losses and go home. We could pick up things again next week, after people cooled off.

In my final message I made an appeal, based on our relationships and history, asking for their trust… their loyalty… their love.  Haven’t I earned it?

Usually when I give one of my talks there are the usual signs of boredom and impatience, but I look into their eyes and I can see that I’m getting my point across. But this time I could tell I wasn’t getting through to them. Loyalty? Trust? Love? I realized that I might as well have been speaking Greek to them.  In their lives these concepts had no practical meaning. There was zero cultural resonance here. Did they have any of these things to give?

Do they know what love is? Does anybody?

What is love to them? In the hood there’s mom love, there’s dad love, there’s love for extended family, there’s gang love… Those are the truest expressions of the emotion, and it’s all twisted by the dynamic of inner-city life. Even innocent expressions of love are tainted by manipulation, anger and fear. 

How do we, any of us, even know what love is? 

“This is love, not that we love God but that He first loved us, and sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.” 1 John 4.10

We don’t deserve it.

We didn’t earn it.

We can’t lose it.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” John 3.16

How can we know love without God?

How can my guys know this love?

How can they show it to me if they have not experienced it?

This is not a love anyone is entitled to… it can only be given, or received.

It’s not a love engendered by family, romantic partners or friends.

How can we learn love in this faulty world of sin?

How can we learn love when no one around us knows what true love is?

Without God, we are the blind leading the blind.

But True Love has come to us in the person of Jesus Christ.

True Love enables us to love when no one loves us in return.

True Love elevates us from our circumstances and allows us to experience God’s presence in our lives.

We don’t have to play the game of manipulation, distrust and fear.

So how can my young men learn True Love?

By me loving them… the way Christ loves me.

Postscript:  This has turned into a long letter but I have to tell you the end.  I spent a long drive home thinking and praying about what had happened.  After a night to sleep on it, I decided to go visit the young man at the center of the conflagration.  As soon as he opened the door, he apologized for what happened and outlined his missteps, repenting of his behavior. I was speechless, but tears came to my eyes. For this young man to come to this conclusion on his own and make this confession to me was huge… flesh and blood didn’t bring him to this point.

It takes God…

I was watching my boys at practice the other day. I’m amazed at how long I’ve kept this group together. They have never been easy. They have difficult attitudes, deep seated emotional issues, and lots of ongoing trauma. It was hard for anybody to be around them. You could take them out of the hood but you couldn’t take the hood out of them. I’m in my twilight years of doing ministry and I didn’t think I’d have the patience to spend years in their development. But, I kept them together… or rather, the Lord did. They stayed with me. They put up with my preaching, my lectures, my admonitions… my “God talk” devos, our church services and house gatherings. They slowly changed… but change they have. Basketball attracted them, but belonging made them stay. They are not perfect, but they have grown.

One young man, for example… every time he jumps in the car when I pick him up for basketball practice I breathe a sigh of relief.  Whenever I drop him off it’s with a prayer that the Lord be with him and watch over him. I’ve known him since he was ten years old (he’s fifteen now) and it’s always been like that. He’s a decent kid, but he’s always been attracted to the streets and been a magnet for negative attention from the streets.

He’s really a walking testimony to God using this ministry. He’s had to deal with so many social struggles that he should be a statistic.  I came along in his life right at the point when his family, the school system and the courts were all ready to give up on him. 

Basketball is what does it for him. With his size and strength, he could easily have been a good athlete in school, but a lack of structure and support in his life negated that possibility. Sports with us is different: I pick you up (no matter where you are) and I take you home. Plus, you get the added youth activities, camps and trips. Being a part of our team means being a part of community, relationships and support in every part of your life. No matter how disjointed his life, no matter how far out in the streets he gets, he comes for basketball.

He’s constantly at risk… recruited by gangs, tempted by criminal activity, involved in ill-advised sexual activity, neighborhood violence… he’s surrounded by it all.  All of our kids live in this environment but he regularly relates tales of close encounters with gangs, police, shootings, etc.  He’s got the marks and scars on his body to bear witness and the emotional ones too.

But he’s alive (many of his peers are not). He’s not in jail. He’s in school and he’s become a more stable person. He knows the Lord, he has friends and community, and he’s abandoned a lot of self-destructive behavior. We want more for him. We want a secure future through education and training for gainful employment. We want him to be able to experience everything God has for him in this life. We want this for all of our youth. 

This summer we will be offering various activities and experiences designed to help them grow as individuals and grow in community with each other and the Lord. We are planning a basketball camp, a trip to Chicago and various fun activities and gatherings. Can you make a special gift beyond your usual giving to help us keep them constructively engaged this summer?  

The Lord bless you, and thanks!

I have been thinking today about the sacrament of brownies…..

     When I was a girl I was required each week to memorize parts of the Lutheran Catechism before my confirmation in the church. The catechism had long passages full of big words and big ideas which I guess might be inevitable when humans try to distill the mysteries of God and faith down into words that they can make children memorize. To be honest, all those many passages I learned and recited every week to get my check mark are long gone from my memory. 

     The dull and dry church of my childhood did not have great preaching or great music or great prayers. But, God always makes God’s own heart known and so I did carry from that place real and true experiences of the One who made me and loves me. I carried away years of singing the liturgy and hymns and all those beautiful words of the Bible set to music that are carried still in my heart after all these years. I carried away the Bible stories told in months of Sundays. And probably more than anything, I carried away the kindness of church ladies who loved me, who were happy to see me and who made a great party for me when I won a large denominational scholarship to college.

    And this brings me to brownies! Over the past thirty-five years, I have baked countless pans of brownies. For some reason, brownies, more than any other baked good, became the means of grace at my house.  On Easter weekend Chris was driving the boys over here for church and as usual, somebody in the van says, ”Do you think Lisa is making brownies?” They have to come expect and to hope for brownies. And over all these years, I have come to believe that brownies are a sacrament here, perhaps not equal to bread and wine or water and blessing, but a sacrament, a MEANS of GRACE, nonetheless. 

     Every single pan of brownies carries with it these kinds of messages– I see you. I love you. I missed you. I was looking forward to being with you. I made something just for you. Those messages are straight from the heart of God. For me, for them, for us together. I was taught long ago that the sacraments like baptism and communion were the means of grace through which we could physically partake of some intangible spiritual reality that God would impart to us. And so, just as I carry the grace imparted to me through the love of the church ladies of my childhood, I pray God may be alive in me and in my love also.

     I carry yet another pan of brownies, warm and cut, to our basement gathering room and just like every priest and pastor before me, I bless them and offer them as a means of grace that each boy will experience that message from God that they are seen, that they are known, that they are waited for, longed after. That they are loved.

Lisa and I just returned from a trip to Ghana. It was a deeply rewarding experience for me,  enriching both culturally and spiritually.  We were saturated with exposure to Ghana’s historical import… being the first African nation to gain independence from colonization, as well as its ongoing struggle to achieve its vision of a unified, independent Africa, each nation free from international predators and dependent on its own rich natural resources to be what they can be as a people. I explored the roots of my African heritage and resonated deeply with cultural values of unity, community and family which my own community often seems to have lost or had stripped from us here in America. Everywhere the message to us was “Akwaaba”… Welcome home.  So, I drank deeply of the experience and immersed myself in my cultural heritage.  My prayer was to get everything I could out of this trip. It wasn’t what I expected… but it was more than I anticipated.

One of the most deeply moving experiences was visiting the Cape Coast Castle. Africans captured from all over West Africa were brought here after being marched hundreds of miles away from their homes.  They were imprisoned in the worst deprecating and dehumanizing conditions, as many as 200 people crammed into a dungeon for sometimes up to three months at the end of which time they were marched through “the door of no return” out to slave ships awaiting them on the beach, to be taken away never to see their homes or family again.  My mind can’t fully conceive the level of suffering or the spiritual anguish my ancestors went through.  Millions died in this terrible industry of human suffering.

Our guide asked us to reflect: If you could speak to your ancestor who survived this journey… the marches, the dungeon captivity, the middle passage, slavery in America… what would you say to them.  You are the remaining lineage of ancestors who sat in this dungeon and were brought across the ocean, what would you say to them today?  All I could think of was to say thank you… If it was not for you, I wouldn’t be here today. Because you survived, a whole people sprang up after you. Because you did not give up hope. You survived. I exist because of you… by the grace of God.

It hit me that this is the message I give my young men here every time I am with them. They struggle through the social and spiritual quagmire of urban life which threatens to suck from them every vestige of hope or joy in life.  Keep keepin’ on, I say.  Don’t give up, don’t despair. Just keep doing the things you’re supposed to do. Work hard at school. Stay out of trouble. Don’t hang around with negative influences. Don’t succumb to racism and don’t allow your circumstances to take control of who you are. Most of all, remember who you are. You are a child of God. God is with you. God loves you.  He is with you, to deliver you. You can make it. Just hold on!

Many of them do… some do not.

We offer a lifeline through organized sports, recreational activities, mentoring, Christian discipleship, and lifelong relationships.  I return home with renewed vigor for the ministry God has called us to and the strengthened conviction that this can only happen with the Lord, the emancipation of young Black men in our inner city communities and the single-minded purpose to simply reach out and grab someone’s hand, and help them along the way.

As we marked the winter solstice yesterday, the words buried in my heart from a childhood of Lutheran Sunday School Christmas “pieces” memorized were echoing…

             “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light: they that dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them hath the light shined.” Isaiah 9:2

This holiday season my heart has been tender as I make my daily rounds, to see the pains of this world for so many in my circle of love.

On the many mornings, I wake in the wee hours and pray… for the hearts of our two teenagers who were recently wounded in a drive-by shooting of their home and for the loved ones battling illness or depression or drug addiction…

On Sunday, as I listened with someone about the untreated mental illness of their family member…

On Monday, as I messaged and called the different friends who are starting chemo and radiation treatment this month….

On Tuesday, as I dropped off cookies off to my elderly neighbor down the street who has lived with cancer for so many years and now is in his last days. He called me “sweetheart” again when we said goodbye and I came home and cried at his skeletal state… 

On Wednesday, as I talked with a young couple with full-time jobs and wages so low they struggle to make ends meet and a neighbor still grieving the painful loss of a loved one…

On Thursday, as I made soup for a friend having surgery in the days before Christmas…

We have sometimes been told that our letters bear too much sadness that people don’t like reading them. Life would be easier if we were not privy to so much heartache and pain. 

However, I feel the great and beautiful and heavy weight of the grace of God that we are here in this very real world of the shadows and darkness of human existence. 

For it is for this very world and for these very people 

that the God of Creation, 

the God of the Universe, 

the God of the seas and the mountains and the earthquake and the cyclone, 

the God of the still, small voice

came as a baby, 

as a very human being, 

to be Immanuel, 

God with us. 

I hold in my heart, often through tears, doubts and struggle, the truth that that great and mighty God is present with us in the suffering and pain and trials and injustice of this wicked world. I base my life on the truth that God is not a God who is far off watching our pain and our struggles, but that Jesus through the power of the Holy Spirit is indeed Immanuel, the God who is with us. And that our dear Jesus, who knew what it is to face oppression, injustice, suffering and death is with us when we hurt and when we cry. And he is here to show us the way through the shadows and the darkness and the death, to follow him through to new life and resurrection.

So dear friends, whether this is a bright and shiny Christmas for you, or one where your heart and spirit are sore or sorrowing, we are reminded,

That through the suffering and the pain, there is HOPE and his name is Jesus. And in those moments, like when I am standing with my neighbor whose life is wasting away, I can say, “Let’s Pray” and cling to the hope that Jesus’ very real presence and very real life can be alive for us in this hurting world.

That is the joy of Christmas.

  These weeks since Thanksgiving have been full of reflection as Chris and I approach the thirty year mark of our years in ministry as Christ’s Children Ministries. We have been thinking of the hundreds of children, youth, adults and families who have passed through our lives–some for short periods and some as permanent parts of our family and community. 

     And as we reflect, we have also had cause to remember our faithful donors who have contributed financially to keep this little non-profit going over all these years. It is through your kind and generous donations over these many years that we have been able to live, minister, work and raise our three boys here in the city.

     As most of you realize, our organization is unique, in that we know almost all of our donors in some kind of personal way. Many of you are friends who have known Chris and I since we were young and have chosen to support the call we felt to serve children and families here in the city. You have been our faithful companions in ministry across the decades. Some of you are friends we met along the way, as God brings us together. You are people who have become special to us by your choosing us and supporting us faithfully. Each time we open letters, make deposits and do bookkeeping, we see and remember and give thanks for each of you.

     We know that some of you pray for us very faithfully and we have felt the strength of those prayers over the years. We meet regularly with another couple, dear friends who have also spent their lives ministering among those who are marginalized and disregarded here in the city. Over the years, the four of us have seen many who have come to live and minister here who end up moving on, often to places where the call is not quite so demanding or so filled with obstacles and heartache. When we meet with these friends, we talk about the things that have been able to keep us here, still working and praying and loving people in the name of Jesus. By God’s grace, we have been able to keep our eyes on Jesus–not on the markers of success or stature or respect that the world gives. If we needed that, we would have folded long ago. I am also convinced that one of the things that has helped us weather the many heartaches and hardships of these past thirty years, is the faithful prayers of God’s people. 

     Thank you for praying for us. It is such a challenge to be people who hold and carry the hope of Jesus in places that are so often filled with despair and brokenness. Your prayers have been able to carry us along, especially me, when sometimes my heart is so heavy that I can only pray through the Spirit. The comfort I have derived from knowing that my broken heart is being carried by some of you who I know are praying for me, for us and for the people we love so much, is beyond measure.

     And somehow, we have made it all these years…sometimes with some extra and sometimes, with just enough, God has provided for our needs. And we are thankful. Every time a donation comes in, we see and know where it has come from and the people who have offered it. I think of the many, many funerals that I have attended of God’s people over these many years who were those who supported us. Just last season, I attended the homegoing celebration of a widow who had sent us a monthly donation across decades. Even as the numbers of our donors become ever smaller and people’s circumstances change, we are thankful for each one of you who supports us through your gifts and your prayers. We are trusting that the grace of God and the prayers of God’s people will continue to sustain and keep us on this path of lifting up our beautiful Jesus and his great love here in Minneapolis. May the beauty and the power of Jesus’ great love be a blessing in this Advent season as we prepare to celebrate the miracle of God choosing to become one of us.

How come everything you talk about comes around to God?

Why do you always have to bring God into everything?

Why is everything always about God?

These are some comments I hear from the boys whenever we are together. They wonder why, no matter what we are doing, no matter where we are, we end up talking about God, or Jesus. We occasionally meet for church at my house, but as I tell the boys: Whenever I come get you and we are together, we’re having church. Jesus said “Whenever two or more of you are gathered in my name, I am among you.” (Matt. 18.20) So when I come to get you… to play basketball, to go bowling, go out to eat, or on a trip… it’s to share Christ. And if Christ is with us, we are having church.

So, in this ministry we don’t often go to church, or have bible studies, or do formal discipleship training… these things are ongoing aspects of our time together. You really couldn’t point to where one begins and one ends. I call it “hip pocket discipleship”, to borrow a phrase from my brothers.

They were telling me once about training soldiers (both of them are military vets… thank y’all for your service!).  One of them told me about taking advantage of some idle time waiting in line to do some “hip pocket training”. What is that? I asked. He explained that in the army soldiers being idle was considered a waste of their time. So their leaders would develop ways of training and teaching them various skills in small moments of opportunity… hip pocket training.

That describes perfectly the discipleship method I employ. My young guys will rarely respond to invitations to go to church or have a bible study. Instead, I bring church and bible study to them… constantly.  They are immersed in it and they don’t even know it. I take advantage of idle time: time riding in the van, time between games at a tournament, time spent at the gym or bowling alley or arcade, time at McDonald’s.  The boys call it God time.  God time transforms any moment or place into a Sanctuary. Guys who won’t sit still for a sermon or bible study are transfixed by God time. Sometimes I talk but mostly I do, and model.  It’s amazing the volumes I can preach just by being me… in Christ.

My guys couldn’t quote you chapter and verse on various biblical subjects but they can tell you who God is, who Jesus is and what he’s done for them. They can tell you what a Christian ooks like and how one should behave. I endeavor, by God’s grace, to model and teach Christ constantly, relentlessly. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not a pillar of virtue by any means. But it’s being around me, seeing my weaknesses as well as my strengths, seeing my flaws and my dependence on God… that’s what preaches! This is the way we circumvent short attention spans, emotional crises and even dysfunctional behavior. God is in everything and about everything. I don’t do 3-point sermons. I endeavor to get one point across… God loves you and cares about you, Jesus is with you and can change your life… usually over the course of days, weeks or even months. Sometimes a lifetime.

My version of hip pocket discipleship is to let them see who I am. In every situation and circumstance. And Lord willing, they’ll see Christ.

“Chris, why you gotta bring Jesus into everything?”  “Cause Jesus is my life, bro.”

Forget the “summer of love”; for our kids, it has been the “summer of violence”. Violence has been the backdrop of our summer. While our kids have an earnest desire for peace, they are surrounded by violence. There have been multiple shootings in our community just this month. Funerals have become a summer mainstay.  We schedule our activities to accommodate kids with friends or family members who have gotten killed. One boy’s cousin this summer was shot and killed right before we went to camp.  To make matters worse (if that is possible), fear and distrust of authority and police became more entrenched after another needless killing of a black man at a traffic stop weeks ago. It never ends. There is no place to go to escape the reality of life here.

The writer of Ecclesiastes, upon making an exhaustive study on the meaning of life, came to this conclusion: “I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live… To eat and drink and find satisfaction in life. This is the gift of God.” Eccl 3.12-13.  The admonition to be happy and do good falls on deaf ears when every day is filled with strife and struggle. This seemingly simple precept eludes most of human society. We all strive for peace and satisfaction, but it is hard to gain in life.  It is particularly difficult for our boys here to have a moment of peace, free from anxiety.  The circumstances of their reality restrict their access to the gift of God.

This summer we’ve been able to engage our boys with regular, positive pursuits… running track, going swimming, playing basketball, going fishing, going to camp, etc. We’ve been particularly busy this summer making sure we have regular contact with our kids and that they have opportunities to “be happy, and do good”.  It has made a significant impact. Young men have bonded with one another, crafting relationships and connections like family. Lives have changed. Boys who seemed to live for the thrill of criminal or self-destructive behavior have become more grounded, more stable, more thoughtful of their actions and choices. More than one mother has commented to me that their sons have come back from camp with subtly different attitudes, asking that whatever I’m doing with their children to keep it up. It’s been a fruitful summer.

But they always have to go home. Back to the neighborhood. Back to reality. Back to stress and strife. Back to survival strategies and situational ethics. Back where you have to be hard, tough and intractable to survive. But they go back with changes, sometimes incremental, in their outlook. Maybe this doesn’t have to be their reality, maybe there is Someone who cares and is always there with them, who can make a difference. Maybe they don’t have to coast along an inexhorable current of dysfunction that empties into a sea of despair. Maybe my life can be different. These small changes add up over time to result in changed lives.

One teenage boy who is in the streets came to me this summer and said excitedly, “Chris, I know you’ve been telling me this for a long time but I finally know God is real!” I’ve known him since he was a young boy and have spent a lot of time with him. In his adolescence he has become caught up in street life and self-destructive pursuits, but our relationship remains strong. I wondered what great event had happened to spark this spiritual awakening.  “Ok, what happened?” I reply. He tells me of a situation where he potentially could’ve been in a lot of trouble, and he prayed and asked God for help and the situation was averted. He was convinced God had interceded on his behalf. “God showed me He is real!” I can’t deny it. I’ve seen a marked change in his attitude and behavior, along with repentance, ever since. He has been an example to the other kids in our group. You just never know how God is going to touch somebody.

The gift of God may be elusive, but it is there for the asking. Thank you for enabling us to give our boys a summer where they can have a moment of peace, to ask.

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary;

Pure and holy, tried and true.

With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living

Sanctuary for you.

This chorus is a staple at our camps and retreats, a song to invite kids to make a sanctuary in their hearts, a place to meet Jesus.

Our kids need sanctuary.  A place, a moment… a retreat from the pressures and stress of their daily existence.  It is just so crazy out here.  Kids report to me constantly of friends or loved ones, or close encounters themselves, with gangs or police, often with fatal results. I used to follow the urban ministry adage that “whoever spends the most time wins”. But it is impossible to compete that way with the myriad negative daily influences on our kids in the city, in the neighborhood, school and sometimes at home. It is the quality of Christ that will counter the quantity of dysfunction.

When I start engaging boys at nine or ten years old, they are just about having fun. They are excited to play on a basketball team, go to camp, do fun stuff together… they talk about kid stuff.  But at some point, they change.  All of a sudden, conversations in the van take on a weightier aspect. Life becomes more serious, and dangerous. Dialogue shifts towards girls, often objectifying them and celebrating promiscuous activity; or they talk about the gangs and crime and drug abuse which form the backdrop of their lives.  This is all they talk about; it informs every aspect of daily life. Whether they are active participants in such behavior or not, they are surrounded and influenced by it. Many are compelled to participate in it, so they can fit in. This is being a black boy in the inner city.  They are in desperate need of sanctuary, a place of refuge and safety… a place they can be who God created them to be.

Our boys endure a “full court press” of dysfunction which saturates their growing up. Many of them are brainwashed into glorifying a lifestyle which has devastated their own families. They have siblings or loved ones who have suffered through long term jail sentences, chronic drug abuse or even loss of life; yet they drift towards the same patterns of self-destruction. They themselves suffer the effects of unplanned pregnancy and teenage parenthood yet they tempt fate with promiscuous activity. This is their world… until they come with us.  With us, there is sanctuary. With us, they can be children. If you want to have fun, go places, do stuff, or play basketball you are welcome; but if you want to be in the street, leave it outside. As one of our young adult men who grew up in our ministry put it: “Yeah, you had to act tough and be street in the ‘hood, but when we came with you, we could experience our childhood.”

This is what they want. I know it’s what they need, but, they actually want structure, a moral compass, someone to guide them and tell them this is ok and that isn’t, and why. Some of the toughest kids in the neighborhood get in my van and soon the whole group will be reveling in street behavior; but when I turn my head and say “Hey! We don’t do that here!”, the whole group responds with downcast eyes or apologetic murmurs.  Some respond to my message about Christ and an uplifted life, others not so much; but they all hear the gospel, and they experience sanctuary. 

So, we provide an island of respite in a sea of dysfunction and despair. Some leave the island and are overcome by the waves of self-destruction and the attraction of chaos. But many leave having strapped on a life jacket of Hope, and ride the waves of inner-city turmoil, becoming an island unto themselves, to which others can cling and hope.  God makes this happen.

This summer we will be providing sanctuary for many kids in the community. We will go camping, play sports, go fishing, go on trips, have barbecues… all in the presence of Christ, providing Sanctuary for any who seek it. If you can support this work going beyond your usual giving with a contribution towards our summer activities, we’d appreciate it.  Thank you for participating in the work with us through your prayers and gifts.

Chris sent this letter out to our church family after his birthday party at the bowling alley in February. He said part of this in the noisy bowling alley and saved some of it for the letter.

A letter to my people:

If you know me (and y’all know me better than anyone, except my immediate family), you know that I’m not big on celebrating my own birthday, or anything with the focus on me.  Yet here we are, celebrating my birthday in a showy fashion. It’s just an excuse to get y’all, my family, together.  It’s an opportunity to remind you that I love you, and I’m on your side.  And when I say that what I really mean is that God loves you and God is on your side.  The love and help Lisa and I have shown you all these years is an extension of God’s love for you.  If you know me, you know that Jesus loves you and God is with you. 

My prayer for ya’ll, from the first time I met you to your lives as adults and elders is that you can get out of the ghetto. I’m not talking about the North side or the South side, I’m talking about the ghettos of your hearts. I’m talking about hopelessness… that feeling that you cannot change your life or circumstances, no matter what you do. I’m talking about the despair that comes when bad things happen around you or, Lord forbid, when bad things happen to you or your family.  I’m talking about the feeling of powerlessness, being trapped in your circumstances. I’m talking about the feeling of being isolated and alone and separated from anything good in this life. I’m talking about feeling like you’re not good enough or that you don’t deserve good things in this life, or feeling like somebody else Is better than you.  God doesn’t love anybody more than He loves you.

Jesus is our deliverance from the ghetto of the spirit.  We live lives where we learned not to trust anyone, that we can’t count on anything… But I’m here to tell you that you can count on God.  The day I learned I couldn’t count on anybody, even my family (cause nobody is perfect), was the day I learned to completely trust God. Jesus says, trust me.  I got you. I’ll get you to a place where you can have joy and peace and love in this world… not just when you die, but right now.  Give me your life… Trust me.

When I look at y’all I see many of you who have escaped or are escaping the mindset of the ‘hood. I see y’all young adults working good jobs or going to college, building lives for yourselves. I see young men and women starting families. The strongest impact a black man can have in this world is to be a good husband and father, and raise a strong family. I see old heads who’ve overcome the ghetto attitude to live meaningful lives and influence others in positive ways. None of us here are rich or famous… but there are some here whose wealth goes beyond what you can see or touch. That’s who you want to be like.  And no matter what age you are, if you don’t have the life you want Christ is there for you. Ready for you to try it His way and experience the life He has for you.

So happy birthday to me… keep on keepin’ on! Remember God loves you, and Jesus is with you.