2013 - A (VERY LATE) Retrospective

So, I just wanted to write a post to recap my year in 2013.

Overall, 2013 was blessed. The first three months were a little rocky, but God sustained me.

April was a breakthrough month. For one, Anointed Hands Learning Center opened. Two, I received a financial blessing that sustained me as we opened A.H.L.C.

We were blessed to see the childcare center steadily grow. We had a few hurdles, including the departure of a pivotal staff member, but the center continued to experience increase.

I had a couple of haters that were busy in 2013, but as the word says, "The LORD says to my lord: "Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet." (Psalm 110:1)

I got a new vehicle in 2013! God is good, and God was totally behind me getting my Honda Accord, which I've named "Silver Bullet". Me and Silver Bullet have been very busy on these streets and highways over the past five months. Praise God!

I also lost a little weight in 2013. I didn't have much of an appetite over the summer, so I didn't eat much at all. I hope that, since I've made a few changes in 2014, I'll be able to be a better steward over this temple of God's.

Spiritually - it was a pretty good year, I suppose. God used me more, as far as teaching and Intercessory Prayer, than ever. It was quite the balancing act, trying to switch my mind from childcare-mode to pastor-mode, but God was with me. One particular highlight was when God increased me significantly in the gifts when I preached in November 2013. It's a long story, but God used me to preach/teach like never before, the anointing was on me like never before, and the gifts (word of knowledge, word of wisdom, prophecy, discerning of spirits, healing, miracles, faith) were flowing like I've never seen. I praise God for it!

The holidays were quiet for me. I fellowshipped with some saints for Thanksgiving (after I slept in for the morning), and my younger brother and niece/nephews held me "hostage" for Christmas. 

Well, that 's my 2013 in a few sentences.

Grandpa - An assorted mix of recollections and remembrances

Today would've been my Grandpa's 81st birthday.

But... Grandpa left this world almost 25 years ago (two weeks from tomorrow, I believe, is the anniversary of his passing).

I've been thinking about Grandpa all day.

All the baseball games he took me to - I remember going to see the Cincinnati Reds play at Riverfront Stadium, as well as going to see my uncle Hump play at different ball fields in the city).

I remember that Grandpa loved to eat candy corn, and would always give me and my cousin Amber candy corn when we were little; to this day, I CAN'T STAND candy corn.

I remember his car. Grandpa drove an old Mercury "something" (I can't recall the year or model, but remember that it was a Mercury). It was green, and it was comfortable. The seats felt like an old comfy couch.

I remember sleeping in the bed with him and my Granny when I was little. I remember loving to see my Granny and Grandpa together.

Then, I remember not seeing my Grandpa as much. When my Granny still stayed at the top of 13th Street, I remember Grandpa stopping by and giving me and Amber money. He'd talk to Granny for a few, then he would leave. At that age, I didn't understand what it meant to be separated.

I remember going to visit Grandpa. He moved to an apartment on Kemper Avenue behind the Walnut Hills Kroger. I loved going to see Grandpa.

I remember my mother telling me, when I was nine-and-a-half, that my Grandpa was sick, that he had lung cancer. I didn't know what cancer was. I remember asking when he was going to get better. She told me that he wouldn't get better.

 I remember the last time I saw my Grandpa alive. My Daddy took me and my younger brothers over to his apartment - the one on Kemper Avenue behind Kroger. He had an oxygen tank next to him, and the tubes in his nose. I remembered being intrigued by the oxygen tank.

 I remember my Granny calling Grandpa; it was a month before he passed away. I remember my Granny asking him if he wanted her to come and cook him breakfast. I remember that they were laughing, and it was a pleasant conversation, from what I could tell.

  I remember my Aunt Biddy waking me up one morning in July. She was at my bedside, and she was like, "Jonathan, wake up!" I woke up. I can't recall exactly how she told me, but she told me that Grandpa died. I cried. I remember she trying to comfort me and telling me not to cry. Then, I remember my Momma being in the doorway, and her telling my aunt to just let me cry. I remember that my mother's face was tear-streaked as well.

I remember not wanted to eat or play. No one else remembers me being that way in the week between his death and his funeral, but I remember.

I remember the funeral. I remember looking in the coffin, and saying to myself (and later, to my mother and aunt) "I didn't know Grandpa had a moustache." I also remember meeting my great-aunt from Baltimore and I remember my Granny and my great-aunt from Georgia crying over some flowers (and Grandpa too, I hope).

I remember my Momma driving his car; I guess he left the car to her or something. I loved that car. But, we didn't have it long - something went wrong, and they junked it or something (Hey, I was only 10 when all this was going on).

Everytime something important happened in my life, I remember that Grandpa isn't there. It pains me a little that he didn't get to see me graduate from elementary school, high school, nor college. He didn't get to see me grow up.

He never got to hear me preach. I single this particular "missed experience" out because my aunts tell me that Grandpa used to tell everybody that I was going to be a preacher when I grew up, because I always ate chicken and liked to talk. I don't remember ever hearing him say that, but I wondered what his response would be if he lived to see it happen.

Of course, I've heard many things about my Grandpa from other family members, and friends of the family. Some of their recollections were warm, others were cool, and others were down-right outlandish. But, I thank God that I have my own memories, my own experiences with him, my own love for him, my own pain over missing him.

I miss that I didn't have a Grandpa to go to during my teenaged years. During that time, both my fathers weren't really around, and I believe that having him around may have made a difference in my outlook on life and myself.

I miss that I didn't get to have more conversations with him. Despite my love and memories, most of what I know is via third parties (my grandmothers, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc). At the same time, Grandpa's absence did make me determined to have more moments with my Granny, and my parents.

 Well, I don't have much else to say about Grandpa John Henry Clark, Sr. I miss him, yet I thank God for the 10 years I had with him, and I hope that he knew the impression that he left on my life.

2012: A Personal Retrospective

So, I know I'm three months late in doing this, but I'm hoping that the extra time has giving me more perspective on explaining the ups and down of 2012 (or maybe I'm saying this because it sounds better then saying "I'm procrastinating")

   Overall, 2012 was a challenging year for me. I went through in just about every area of my life. I really didn't think about the tests and trials while I was in the midst of them, but toward the end of December, I had to look back and say, "Wow - I really went through this year."

     I've seen some people around me say and do things that hurt. I wasn't really hurt personally, but I saw people get hurt by their bad decisions; and it hurt me to see them hurting, and it hurt me that I couldn't do anything to help them. I learned, on another level, about letting go and letting God.

     I had to confront some insecurities that were hidden deep down; specifically, I had to confront the warped view of manhood and driving. Because of my upbringing, there were things that I wasn't able to experience that other children/teenagers go to experience - namely, the experiences of a driver's license and a car. I had spent most of  my adulthood feeling that I was wasn't really a man because I didn't have a driver's license or a car. I felt that, when I acquire these things, that I'd finally feel as though I was a man.
   Well, I got my driver's license in 2011, I got a car in 2012, and I lost the car in 2012 (the financing fell through after I drove the car off the lot... long story). After I got the car, and lost the car, I didn't feel more mature. I didn't feel like, "Ah - my manhood is complete." I didn't feel that I had arrived. So, I had to discover the source of the insecure feelings I had.
    I realized that there were people around me that tried to make me feel some kind of way about not having a license/car because of their own insecurities. There were people that were perhaps insecure about what God had allow me to accomplish in regards to education, and people who were insecure about my relationship with God and how God has raised me up over the years. So, me not having the means to drive was something for those people to  use to try to demean me and mess with my "self-esteem". But, God used the situation with the car to expose and free me, so I praise him!

     Money - I went through in this area as  well. I only got four months in with the IRS, and I only got $94/week in unemployment, and that got cut off in December... . yeah.

     Daycare - We at Anointed Word Fellowship have been working on a daycare for about three years now.  We had endured rule changes, personnel changes, personnel "sucka attacks", driving all over Ohio for training, and filing endless paperwork with the state. But, at the end of the day, we got licensed, and our opening day is fast approaching (and me earning an income again is fast approaching).

     School - So, I'm currently enrolled in the Master of Education program at Grand Canyon University (focus: Early Childhood Education). So far, I am enjoying my coursework. I am learning a lot, and am excited that I'll be able to help the young children with the knowledge that I'm acquiring through my coursework. And, so far, I'm doing quite well in school. I pray that the next 20 of so months go as smoothly as the past two months.

    Assistant Pastor - I'm still Assistant Pastor of Anointed Word Fellowship (AWF). Being in ministry presents many opportunities for personal growth and character building. God has brought together a unique group of people, with diverse abilities, talents, personalities, and characters. So, I've been able to interact, and even be challenged by these different abilities, talents, personalities, and characters. I give glory to God for keeping me for two years, for growing me, equipping me, guiding me, and teaching me to fight in the spirit realm like never before.

     The future - Even in December 2012, God had been dealing with me about vision. I believe totally that many dreams/visions/prophecies that have tarried for years are going to manifest in 2013. I believe that I'm finally at a place in my mind/spirit/character/emotions where God can finally open some doors that had been previously shut.
     I'm seeing it already this year - the daycare license, school... . I'm just looking forward to everything else that God may have in store!

    Well, that's my 2012, in a nutshell. Laton!
   

Update (It's been a long time...)

It's been a long time/ I shouldn't have left you/ without a hot blog to grip you/... (Gee - that might've been a little corny)

I've just been 1) BUSY and 2) Uninspired to write blogs. I've had ideas, but I've just found better things to do. For one, I wanted to finish doing the elaborations on my testimony bars (I've already done ex-smoker and ex-drinker). I haven't done a "Year in Review" for 2012 (and please believe that I've had MUCH to reflect on for 2012.
  Oh - I forgot about the 3rd reason why my blogs haven't been manifesting on this page as I want them to - my comnputer screen went out! I was sitting here doing some work on good ol' Julie (that's what I had named my laptop - Julie) when the screen went black! The computer was on, but the screen was black! Since my funding wasn't suffice at the time, I just had to suffer without a computer for almost two months. But, I went and got my new laptop - I call her Shiba (short for Toshiba) - and I'm in full effect. Shiba is definitely an upgrade from Julie (new operation system, more RAM, the disc drive works, and so does the battery). Julie was a trooper - I had her for over six years - but it was time to move on.
   But mainly, I'm been busy. I'm still assistant pastor of the church (local assembly) I'm a part of, I'm in the process of opening a daycare, I'm studying for a Master's in Education, and I'm working on a few ventures (God has given me the power to get wealth, and I'm going to go get it).

   Forgive me for not organizing my thoughts above - I'm writing this blog off the dome.

   So, over the next week, I hope to at least do a 2012 review. I may also take time away from my busyness to write about my busyness. I also need to take time to read the news so that I can blog about the news (The news is always fun to write about).

   So, with that being said, I'll write laton!

Mixed Feelings: Men, Women, and Violence (Part I)

Recently, I've seen two instances of men hitting women; the first was a movie scene, the second was a video clip of an actual incident. I'm finding that I have mixed feelings about what I've seen, and I'm going to blog about it and sort out my feelings openly.

  So, I was up one night (couldn't sleep), and I ended up watching "A Family That Preys" on Youtube. It was an okay film, but the one scene that stood out is when Rockmond Dunbar's character found out about his wife infidelity (Sanaa Lathan played the wife). When she confessed the infidelity, he gave her a real-live backhand, and she flew over the counter.
    I was shocked, but at the same time, I understood. In the film, the husband was faithful, hardworking, patient, and enduring. He put up with years of the wife belittling him and discouraging his dreams (the man also had ambitions) without a word. Then to find out that this woman was cheating on you for years and to find out that your son really isn't even your son... that man snapped, and she was too close to him in that moment. I couldn't believe that I was watching a man slap his wife into the next week, but I was... happy (???) to see her reap some of the ill seed that she had sown.

   Then, today, I saw a video of a Cleveland bus driver who was attacked by a 25-year-old woman. The woman and the bus driver had exchanged words, then she apparently hit him and/or spit on him. The bus driver got up, and hit her with a Street Fighter uppercut. Then, he grabbed her up and put her off the bus.
   I had the same feelings about this incident as I did about the movie scene - I hated to see a man hit a woman like that, yet it was another case of "you reap what you sow".

   Even as I write, I'm torn in my feelings about seeing these two examples of violence against women (although one of them was fictional). I firmly believe that a man shouldn't hit a woman. I believe that a man is supposed to use his strength to protect, support, and elevate a woman, not tear her down.
   Despite what so many women may try to portray, a woman is not just like a man. Physically, the average man is stronger than the average woman. On average, a woman is more emotional and more mouthy than a man. Women tend to battle with their mouths, and men tend to battle with their hands [in the natural, I'm not referring to the spiritual  battle].

    Maybe the problem I'm having is the fact that so many people in today's society (men and women) aren't as sensitive to violence in general, and specifically against violence against women by men. Many men and women shrugged off the bus incident with statements such as "karma" or "you reap what you sow" or "her mouth cashed a check that her @$$ couldn't cash" (I'm guilty of this). Some responded with glee to see this "unruly woman" get put in her place. Some marveled at the uppercut that this man used on the woman (I'll admit - it's been years since I saw an uppercut; I thought that punch went out of style with finger waves).

   I need to think on this matter more (away from the computer). I'll continue this exploration later.

Ex-drinker

It used to taste good to indulge in that fermented,
but God changed my taste buds after I repented!

   As with smoking, I grew up around a lot of drinkers (probably could accurately use the term "alcoholics", but I'll use "drinkers" in this blog entry). And as with smoking, I was initially turned off by drinking as well. I didn't like the effect it had on certain members of my family, and I associated it with partying, and I didn't like all the partying that my parents/aunts/uncles/cousins did.
   But, since it was always around, I was tempted as a teen. I remember sneaking sips of my mother's Hennessy  when she wasn't home. I didn't particularly enjoy it (at the time), but I suppose I liked the thrill of doing something that I wasn't supposed to do.
   But, then I went to college and, as with smoking, I got caught up. At first, I thought that beer was nasty, but I liked being drunk and eventually acquired a taste for it. And, I really enjoyed the harder stuff, because it got me drunker quicker. In case it's not obvious, I was in love with being drunk. When I was drunk, I felt more confident, more at ease with myself, more carefree... . I liked that... I just liked being drunk/wasted/smashed.
   
   But then, I got saved. And, I stopped drinking for a couple of years. Then, I turned 21. My homegirl came to Oxford (the one that I spent a weed-filled weekend with - see my ex-smoker testimony for more about that). She took a brotha to the club and was buying me amaretto sours and long island iced teas, and I was guzzling them drinks like I was drinking kool-aid on a hot summer's day. I was super-smashed! I couldn't even walk down the street straight (but I regretted it the next day, for real).
   After this incident, I drank at home. I felt bad that I was supposed to be a devout Christian on the campus, but I was wasted in the club on a Friday night, and people who knew me was up in the club too. I really didn't drink too much for the rest of my college days, but after college, I would (on the low) enjoy cocktails or a bottle of beer. And, when I was a socialist, I got it in!

  Finally, toward the summer of 2005, I started feeling some type of way about drinking. I just felt "wrong" about drinking. The Holy Ghost kept bringing to my remembrance that "wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise". So, I prayed to God that he'd take the desire away from me like he did with smoking. And, I swore off drinking.

   And, I haven't drunk anything since... no, that's wrong. Back in the Spring of 2007 when I called myself backslidding, I did get lit off Absolut with my lil' homie, and I had the hangover from hell the next day. That was 5 1/2 years ago, and I haven't had a drink since, not even really tempted. God truly delivered me from the bottle, and I give him praise!


#ex-drinker

Ex-smoker

He took that "blaze" up out my lung
and put that PRAISE up on my tongue

It's still a trip to my, in some ways, that I actually have this testimony, considering the disdain I had for smoking. Yet, smoking (cigarettes, Black & Mild cigars, and especially marijuana) is something from which God had to save me.

I grew up with parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and other adults who were smokers; I think my maternal grandmother was the only adult in my life who didn't smoke at all. I remember all the smoky car rides, the butt-filled ashtrays, and running to the store with a handwritten note from my mother or one of my aunts to buy cigarrettes or rolling papers.

But, I hated it. I thought it was a waste of money to buy those smoky things (I was also considering all the candy, chips, and pop I could buy with the money being spent on Salem Slim Lights, Kools, and Newports). I swore to never smoke cigarettes in my life!
That's not to say that there was no temptation in my teenaged years. I remember that, when I was 14, I flirted with the idea of smoking a Black & Mild cigar. Honestly, I liked the smell. Cigarettes stinked, Black & Milds smelled nice. I wanted to smoke one to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. I went tand bought a pack one time, but before I could get enough nerve to open it and smoke one, my brothers kicked in my door and saw the Black & Milds. In embarrassment, I threw them out the window, and I gave up on trying those cigars.

So, I get to college. I never smoked anything, and was a bit of a goody-two-shoes when it came to smoking and other vices. I was shocked to see classmates and dorm-mates smoking cigarettes and weed. I couldn't believe that people who were smart enough to be in college would be foolish enough to smoke [and do other stuff]! I generally tried to stay away from the smokers; I wasn't trying to be judgmental, but it shocked me, and I didn't know how to "take" my peers who were smokers.

   During fall break of my freshman year of college, I decided to stay on campus and hang out (most of the students used to three-day weekend to go off campus to visit family and friends). Well, on Saturday night of the fall break, I went to check on the guy that lived two doors down from me. Unbeknownst to me, he and several of our dorm-mates were in the midst of a smoke session [with marijuana]. I was shocked to see them smoking weed, especially in our smoke-free dorm, but was intrigued because it was the first time I've ever seen Caucasians smoking weed. So, I went in the room to hang out with them, but didn't intend to smoke anything. However, one of the guys started talking this stuff about how marijuana isn't addictive and how it makes you feel good and a whole bunch of other b.s. that seems stupid now but made sense at the time (I probably had caught a contact at the time and didn't even know it; but then, I was so naive then that I didn't even know what a contact was). Then he ended his endorsement of marijuana with "I'm not trying to pressure you...".
   Of course I was intrigued. So, when I was asked if I wanted to give it a try, of course I said yes! I let them show me what to do. I inhaled, and of course I choked on the first couple of hits. But that third time, I inhaled it correctly, and I held it in like they told me to. I remember feeling at though someone went inside my brain and hit me on my skull with a little hammer. Then I remember feeling dizzy and lightheaded. Then, I remember everything being funny, and laughing at everything that everyone was saying. I can't remember how long I stayed in that room, but I remember leaving and going back to my room with the munchies. I ate some Doritos, drank Hawaiian Punch, and fell asleep in the middle of the floor with a white sheet wrapped around me.

  I loved marijuana. I loved how it seemed to make food taste better, how it made everything funnier, how it made my head spin, how it made me so relaxed. At the same time, I felt guilty. I had always tried to be an example to my younger siblings, and here I was, loving weed. But, I didn't stop smoking.
  I also finally started to smoke Black & Milds. I went to the Ameristop on Spring Street and bought a pack of Black and Milds and smoked one of them on the walk back to my dorm. I wasn't a frequent smoker of Black & Milds, but I did love the smell of them, and they held me over until I was able to get some weed.

   After I had been a Christian for about six months or so (right around the time I got filled with the Holy Ghost), I started feeling bad about smoking. Some of my brothers and sisters in Christ testified about how God delivered them from weed, so I assumed that I couldn't smoke weed or Black & Milds anymore since I was a Christian. So I stopped smoking... for about eight months.
   My homegirl was leaving Miami U, and she wanted to smoke with me one time. We had never smoked with each other, and she wanted to get a 20-sack and get it in. So, despite that Holy Ghost conviction, I put in, and we got lit the entire weekend.
   After that smoke-episode, I would go on weed binges, meaning that I would forsake smoking weed for a period of time (six months to two years), then I would get offered weed, and binge for a period of time (from a few days to a few weeks). Then, I would feel bad and stop smoking.

   I remember having a conversation with my mother in March 2002 (two months before she passed away). I told her about how I wanted to go smoke some weed. She told me not to be like everyone else. "I smoke weed, your Daddy smokes weed, your brothers smoke weed. Don't be like us, Edward. You've always been on something different - stay that way." That conversation stuck with me, especially since that was one of the last times she and I sat down and talked before she died of a brain aneurysm two months after we talked.
   I did take her words to heart, and I wanted to be "on something different". But, I was grieving, heartbroken, and STRESSED! So, I started smoking Newports to deal with the stress, and to stay away from weed. I wasn't a "regular" smoker of cigarrettes though. I would buy a pack, give 1/2 of them to beggin' niggas on the streets, and after finishing off a pack, I would forsake smoking until the next time I was stressing and found myself buying another pack of Newports.

    In November 2004, while I was praying to God, He started dealing with me about how I needed deliverance from smoking. I tried to reason with God, by saying things like, "But I'm not a regular smoker", and "I went without smoking for two years - twice - so it can't be that big of a deal." But, God kept convicting me about it. He made me to realize that they only reason I stopped smoking was because I didn't have and money, or because I was in situations where I couldn't smoke (like when I was was living with my best friends). He showed me that I adtually loved the smell of marijuana and Black & Milds, how I would sit around smokers just so that I could take in the smell. He showed me that the fact I would say, "I went without smoking for two years - twice - so it can't be that big of a deal" showed just how deceived the devil had me in this area. So, I sincerely prayed, "Lord, deliver me from smoking."

   And He did. About two weeks after I prayed for deliverance, I was walking from the Main Library in Downtown Cincinnati. Two guys walking in front of me were smoking a blunt. The smell hit my nose, and I was so turned off by the smell that I actually had to turn and walk in another direction just to get away from that smell. As I walked away, I asked God what was that all about; he told me that he took the taste for smoking out of my mouth. Not only did the desire leave, but I actually became disgusted by even the very smell of cigarettes/marijuana/Black & Milds.

  However, there was a period where I tried to smoke again. In March/April 2007, I left God and "called" myself backsliding. After I made the decision to backslide, I decided that I was going to go back and resume all those vices, including smoking and drinking. I got hold of a Newport, and tried to smoke it. I took one puff, and almost threw up! It was as though I had inhaled a mouthful of dirt! I put out the cigarrette, and knew that I'd never pick one up again. I also tried to smoke a joint during this period. My younger brother was smoking, and I asked if I could hit it. He was hesitant to let me hit (he knew that I had been delivered, and he was disappointed that I was backslidding), but he gave in and passed me the joint. I took a couple of puffs, and NOTHING HAPPENED - I didn't even feel the smoke hit my lungs! I didn't get high, didn't choke, nothing! Nothing happened! So, I knew then that God's deliverance was bigger than my attempts at backsliding.

   And, I haven't touch any of that stuff since.


#ex-smoker