Then the LORD said to Joshua, “See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands, along with its king and its fighting men. March around the city once with all the armed men. Do this for six days. Have seven priests carry trumpets of rams’ horns in front of the ark. On the seventh day, march around the city seven times, with the priests blowing the trumpets. When you hear them sound a long blast on the trumpets, have all the people give a loud shout; then the wall of the city will collapse and the people will go up, every man straight in.” Joshua 6: 2-5

Happy Memorial Day, I just got back from the local parade in my town where there was a nice sound off for our soldiers, the ones living and those who have had an untimely demise. I wound up there because my little sister is in the marching band, sweet little girl, she’s growing so big. However, hearing the horns made me think of our soldiers fighting at war right now. My cousin has been in Iraq for the past however many moths and just this past Friday my God Sister told me that her orders have her leaving for Iraq soon. Immediately, I was upset by this but after hearing her energy I thought that it is just best for me to support her and pray for her.

So as I read the scripture above and I think of all of the family members and friends that we have at war I ask myself where are our priests? Where are our horns, where is our protection, where is the support for our troops in the name of our Lord. I know often my disdain with the government and our rationale for being at war makes me angry with the military but I recognize that this is misplaced anger. I look at the story of Jericho and it makes me want to support our troops even more, makes me think that we as a community of Christians we should be as supportive of the troops as possible to ensure that they come to a victory and come home safely. It is only through God’s will that our families and friends will be safe so I believe we must invoke the spirit of the days spoken of in the scripture and protect our troops with the armor of God. Peace and Grace be unto you.

No matter how long the night, the day is sure to come.

While sitting at home last night with some good friends yapping about relationships and the double standard between men and women somehow the channel gets changed to the season finale of Flavor of Love Part III. Utter trash, while watching this and surfing the internet I wondered how this is the highest rated show for Black Americans, as Roland Martin has stated the figures represent this show to be.

I remember being a little boy and wearing a medallion and feeling a sense of solidarity of my blackness from members of Public Enemy and the knowledge they shared with me through their records. I had to start researching and see if Chuck D, whom I have a great amount of respect and admiration for was co-signing this coonery. I was happy to see that he was not on board with Flav and this nonsense but still considered Flav a brother. That’s important to me, similar to what Obama said, we can not disown our families but we do not have to agree with some of their idiotic behaviors.

So Flavor Flav can be seen on VH1 setting the black race back with his modern day minstrel show and his minstrel video hoes. Yep I said video hoes, these women parade around selling sexual images, in their scantilly clad outfits for the world to see in hopes of a break. It worked for New York and a few of the other women who have graced this tv show but what the hell are they thinking?

The winner, her name on the show is “Thing 2″! What kind of degrading nonsense is that? Come on Flav you have to do better than this. Please do not mistake my tone for one of the black bourgeoise whose head is stuck too far in the clouds to laugh. Look through the blog, I laugh all the time but Flavor Flav disgusts me with this chauvinist nonsense. If you were ever looking for the epitome of a NIGGER, or a COON, a dis-credit to the black race than look no further than Flavor Flav. How do you sit and learn with PE and spew knowledge to generations of hip hop heads and then turn around and be the largest proponent of despicable images of black men and women.

I guess you’re laughing straight to the bank Flav, well keep laughing away your self respect. Flavor Flav SUKKS!

Dear Dad,
I wanted to start by congratulating you on your 49th year on this planet and to praise you for the positive impact that you have had on the multitudes of people that you have come in contact with. I hope that you know that your selfless giving and undying efforts to teach and be of assistance does not go unnoticed. Even though we have had our rough and trying times, I am glad that at the end of the day that we can depend on each other. I know that we both see life through completely different lenses. However, I am very appreciative of the effort that you make to help me to see the bigger picture from all perspectives. I am aware that in the society we live in, raising a king is not easy by any stretch of the imagination but I am proud to see that you continuously remain a steady, constant presence in my life. We have both witnessed the consequences of young black males in the inner city that have practically raised themselves due to a lack of a fatherly influence or strong male role model. I am extremely happy that you took the time out to help mold me into the man that I am today. I may not be everything that you would like me to be but I am striving everyday to become the best Chad that I can be and that is one of the jewels you bestowed on me. We have come a long way in our journey as father and son in just one year’s time. Hopefully we can continue to progress and bring out the best in each other and become even closer for years to come. Thanks for being my life line even when the world turns the blind eye. Happy 49th Birthday… I’m sure Pop-Pop would have been extremely proud of you. I love you and God bless you.

-Chad G. Rumble

even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Psalm 139: 10-14

It’s funny I would stumble upon this verse. I feel like this is the basis for how I feel about my relationship with God. You know how they say you reap what you sow, that’s why I am amazed at the type of relationship God and I have. He doesn’t let me get away with anything! If I do something incorrect, he gets at me immediately and I just sit back like “wow, he’s good, I thought I could get away with that one.” Of course sometimes I get caught up watching what others do, how they hurt people and continue to press on and be happy. However, I know it is not my place to judge their actions and I know that by him showing his disapproval of my actions he is only attempting to make me wiser. Everything that is done in the dark will surely come to the light, so I am thankful that I catch the jack immediately rather than way down the line.

The words are so genuine; “for you created my inmost being, you knit me together”. God is our creator, the masterpiece that you see in front of your mirror every morning is his work. Beauty fades and this is why the Lord teaches us humility and to be noble. A loving, kind, helpful person will receive the blessings of the Lord because they are remaining faithful to his word. We can not hide our flaws from the lord in darkness because he sees us there. Instead we might as well just confess our troubles and flaws to the Lord and ask for his guidance so that we may move out of the darkness rather than trying to hide in it. Today I am going to follow my own advice and try to steer away from doing incorrect things that I will catch the jack for later. Peace and Grace be unto you.

The fool is thirsty in the midst of water.

DISCLAIMER: This is a very emotional piece that I wrote several years ago. As for an update, my biological father is now helping me create an avenue for men in prison to reach out to the outside world and share their brilliance. Inside the Wall will become a part of this blog very soon. I hope you appreciate the piece, many had responded while it was on myspace so I felt the need to share the contents with you. Happy Birthday George!

Letter to my unborn Father

Possibly the most personal statement I have ever made to date.

A child was born around 3:41am on the Sabbath Day, always knew the boy would be special because he was born on the Lord’s Day. Like a thief in the night his biological father took off running immediately. Not for good, only for two weeks but those 2 weeks of him missing in action foreshadowed what was to come.

A child is a child, I don’t remember much before the age of four except for maybe one memory at the age of three. Where the child’s mother was cooking, his grandmother and sister were there and a familiar man was at the door. Still that same father only this time he’s not running, for women are strong and when men ain’t shit they tell them to keep going.

Like I said women are strong, so strong it’s frightening if you’re not a strong man. So after a so-called father disrespects the very woman who bore his child with deception, lust, more kids, yes I said more kids; not by her of course, a strong woman leaves. Leaves to find her happiness, which she knows, does not exist within a man who could be so selfish and cruel.

So he writes a letter and the contents of it I will share with you:

Dear Dad,
When I was young I called you daddy to signify the difference between you and my real father. It was a symbol of our love, our relationship, and our connection. A connection I have come to the conclusion we never had. Growing up I knew plenty of kids whose parents weren’t in their life. Being born in the 80’s some parents fled to CRACK, some fell ill with a sickness they first thought was syphilis but today has become a Pandemic known as AIDS.

But many of us young black boys lost our fathers to the system better known as maximum correctional facilities. Sorry, you’re no political prisoner like Mumia, or Assata, NO quite frankly you broke the law and have been caged like an animal ever since.

At an early age I can remember knowing what the term pathological liar meant. My mother didn’t sugar coat things nor did she make them uglier than what they seemed to be. She raised me with my eyes wide open rather than shut so that I could see the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Pretenders, those who said they were with you but really were more out for themselves. Something all these years later I recognize is possible within any relationship, even ours.

In high school I was angry at the lack of a father role that you played. In college I had sympathy for you because I knew how they must have been treating you in those concentration camps, on the outside we are caged mentally but you were physically, mentally at times it seemed even spiritually caged. The trips up north were oh so hard, painful to see the one who is supposed to be your “supreme” in a state that is so desperate. It is unimaginable that this would be a man’s fate, HELL not a man like you, not a man whose mouth is slicker than Stacey Adams shoes. A man whose walk is reminiscent of Malcolm when he was strutting in Boston in them zoot suits. No not you! You, an alleged father, the maker of children who span this earth some aimlessly because of your lack of parenting skills.

I’ve tried to write this letter many times, please don’t mistake my tone for anger, God knows all we need is another angry black man mad at his deadbeat daddy. No my tone is more of disappointment, disappointed at how men can escape their duties. Not mad at you because we made peace four years ago in January of 2002 at that table in that penitentiary where I visited because I thought that if you died I would be somewhat responsible.

My mothers fine, strong as I wrote before, strong enough to take her children find a true man and raise them to be RESPONSIBLE. STRONG enough to go on with her life and find happiness, that’s all the little lady ever talks about, is being truly happy, I’m sure she is. My brothers are growing, their big now, intelligent young fellas, my sisters a nurse she’s doing well for herself. My father, well he’s doing well too you should see us in action. We play chess, laugh about old beatings I got from acting out. He’s a good dude, and I’m thankful I had a father. See a lot of kids cant say that I am just very happy that I can. See I realized that connection I thought we had is false. Years in the pen won’t change you, I won’t change you, she don’t love you so that won’t change you. Players who keep playing get played, they play themselves out, it becomes tired and hopefully they recognize the error in their ways. If not they are relegated to a lifetime of unhappiness, must be that Green Mile they talk about. I say letter to my unborn Father because after 22 years I realized I don’t know you and quite frankly have no desire to.

I understand I’m finning to be a grandfather… And I’m so proud, I can say that in many ways. I can say that in many ways, I can say I’m so happy and I’m so proud. Son I won’t give you any direction in Parenting at this stage because I think its gonna come to you like it came to me. See you came to me and your mom from the spiritual world we just the physical parents you know. God loaned you to us it’s God’s spirit we the physical parents you know. - Pops a.k.a. Lonnie Lynn (Common’s Pops)

when you are happy, like really bask in your happiness. Smile, be joyful, jump up and down on your bed even. when you’re happy really get into it. when you love, really love hard because when you’re sad whoooooo it sucks - Cedric D. Shine

There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

Time waits for no man or woman. Sometimes I feel suspended in time. I learned sometime in this past year that when you are happy, like really bask in your happiness. Smile, be joyful, jump up and down on your bed even. Because unfortunately when you are sad, when its raining outside, it really pours. When that rain comes into your life you have to think about this scripture and think what time is it right now in my life. How did you enjoy the good times you had. Did you really relish in the good times, or did you find yourself making comparisons to how they could have been better times. I get so much out of this scripture that I can’t write it all down today so be sure that I will bring this one back out. I’m looking above at all of the different times in life that we experience and trying to understand how they all merge. After I read one line, I always go back to the top; there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven.

Who controls the amount of time that we may be building, the amount of time it takes us to heal. Truth is we definitely have no control over these different time periods and I am learning to grow and appreciate each time period that I may be in. Several of them could be going on at one time and we just have to be patient and understand when God feels we have learned that lesson than he will pass us on into the next time phase he has for us. Faith is real wild because you don’t see God, like you cant reach out and physically see yourself shaking his hand. But you trust in him, it’s wild because that is a beautiful trust. We have people in our lives who we can see, and we put trust in them and they destroy it, so this dichotomy makes some people just believe that only they can control. They can’t fully trust in God because they cant see him, they know that some people are untrustworthy so they just look to themselves. We must try not to fall into this trap; for starters God is within us so he is tangible. I just look to the above passage and I think wow there really is a time for everything, I’m looking forward to the beautiful times he has for me. When you get them and if you have them right now please honor and love those times because those memories push us through hard times. Peace and Grace be unto you.

(sings) Gotta find me an angel - Aretha Franklin

Congratulations to Ms. Crystle Stewart who was recently crowned Miss USA 2008. I honestly normally would not pay this contest any attention but I was impressed by this young lady’s entrepreneurial mindset.

Crystle Stewart, of Missouri City, Texas, runs a party-planning and motivational speaking company, as well as modeling professionally. Ms. Stewart looks to dedicate her life to international philanthropy. In a society that relegates women’s roles in the media to video girls and scantily clad outfits highlighting all of their assets except their minds, I am happy that this young lady is forward thinking. I pray that she takes this opportunity to continue to network and build her professional possibilities. But also stand as a monument for all women in this country, showcasing her intellect rather than her beauty and empowering young girls to reach beyond the restraints of the images the media offers them.

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