Happy Farther’s Day Uncle

Saturday before last was my wife’s surprise baby shower. It also happened to be Father’s Day but I had been so busy with subterfuge in keeping the surprise in surprise baby shower that I had forgotten.

During the Jack and Jill event (that means boys can come too, as my niece would say), I receive a large (11” x 17”), homemade card from my niece that read “Happy Farther’s Day Uncle, Number 1 Uncle/Farther.” It had a yellow background with black diagonal stripe, with a large “F” on the bottom, and a caricature of myself at the top-left.

When I reach out to grab it, my niece told me she had to read it first. Quite nervously she began as a room of about twenty listened on:

Thank you Uncle

For coming to my open house…letting me sleep over…caring for me…helping me when I need it...taking me out for breakfast…holding me…carrying…taking me places when mommy can’t...inviting [my friend] to your baby shower…teaching me to clean…coming to my sixth birthday…for my first dollar on my birthday…taking me to the beach…being funny…letting my use your computer…thinking I can do it when I say, “I can’t”…making aunty my aunt…believing in me…leaving your love with me...being with me…caring for me…taking me to the museum…teaching me…putting me to sleep…helping me with my shoe laces…thank you for always helping me.

The room was stunned. Not only because this particular niece has written the card herself, but the things she was thanking me for spanned at least three years. Of course my wife was bawling her eyes out (hormones nonewithstanding).

As I went back in my minds eye and looked back over the last twelve years of being a surrogate dad to my nieces, I realized in spite of my reservation about how kids are faring in today’s world we parents and surrogates must continue fighting in the name of love for all children. Children notice and it does make a difference.

Bless Those Who Piss You Off

Yes, I know. The scripture in the book of Romans actually reads, "Bless those who curse you." However, we all know it could also mean, bless those who piss you off. A member of my Florida bible study group, who I'll call M, used to testify about how she would always pray for her boss inspite of his abrasive and cantankerous behaviour.

While M and her boss would have it out, at the end of the day, when he did show restraint M colleagues would thank her for having prayed.

I've recently learned through personal experience, that we can change the behavior of people who piss off us, by blessing them. Those people won't or may never be any more pleasant that before. However, you will find that you can deal with them better and that they might even apologize for their behavior and give a gift of appreciation. Try it and see.

Thirty Years to Life

I was on the way to work thinking that I had about thirty year of 9-to-5-ing left if I continued on my current path. Nothing wrong with the track per-se, but I am at what I feel is the zenith. In plain English, I have the perfect 9-to-5. The job is perfect, the job title, the company, the location, and the commute. Everything is perfect, for a 9-to-5. However, it occurred to me as it has in the last couple of weeks than I was ready for more. Ready to be on the other side of the desk. I’ll get to that another day perhaps.

When I got to my connecting station a guy about my age in a suit and tie suddenly struck up a conversation with, you mean thirty more years of this @#$#?

I said, “huh?” just to make sure he hadn’t been reading my mind, or I his.

Thirty more years for shuffling to drudgery, he continued.

“I hear ya,” I told him. He then asked me what I thought about his comment. I told him humorously (a la Beatles) that maybe that (working for the next thirty years) was what happens while you’re making other plans.

He then asked me where I worked, and vice-versa. I had heard of his company and told him I knew a few people who worked there years back.

He replied, “if they don’t work there anymore, I can understand why.” As we parted for different trains he seemed to cheer up. So did I.

If we both, God willing, have thirty years to life, we can spend it making plans. Plans to live with more meaning. Plans to experience more passion. Plans to love and be loved. Plans to help. Plans to heal. Plans to forgive. Plans to repent. Plans to be better people, so that regardless of how those years turn out, we know we had a life of our choosing.

When You're Sick

I've always felt that when I got sick it was for a reason. The reason I usually muse is that God wants to have a special conversation with me, and that I will be sick as long as it takes his message to get across.

So, yeah, I'm sick. I fought it for a while, but finally yesterday afternoon I bit the bullet. I was forced to truly relax, and get rest. Relaxing meant letting my wife "mother" me. It also gave me a feel of what she's been going through being pregnant. Not that I know what it feels like to be pregnant, but I know how it feel to feel like crap longer than one would like.

I went to bed about 11:30 p.m. and didn't get up until 12:00 p.m. The last time I slept like that, I had influenza.

I made a promise to myself that I would have more patience with the misses, and emphathize with what she's going through.

Time for Play at Park Street

Every once in a while God has to intervene to insure I take a break. A break from my thinking, number crunching, reading, reading, and reading to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

This break was at Park Street earlier this week. I was taking a connecting train at Park Street station reading one of my non-fiction tomes as a source of motivation and inspiration. A sparse collection of commuters waited on the outbound platforms as we had all just missed the last train by a hair.

I lifted my head to notice a well-dressed, bespectacled man in his sixties with a guitar. He seemed out of place. Like he should have been the head of a hacienda in peru or something. Other commuters began to notice as well. This wasn't the typical "artiste."

His warm smile and small stature made him look (behind his microphone) like he was about to begin a spelling bee championship. He carefully brought his fingers to his guitar and paused right before his large fingers touched them, as if to warn the strings of what was about to come.

As the first cords echoed against the subway walls like a nostalgic love story he had more of my attention and more than a few commuters'. When his seasoned alto voice accompanied his playing, more heads turned to watch and I found I just couldn't get back into my book. I was hooked. Soon, as the platform began to fill, more heads turned toward this grandfather-figure as he delved into his ballad ..mi entrega....

Soon a burly white guy in his early forties put a few coins in the guitarista's case. Then a young man puts in some bills. Then a woman and her young daughter. And
another, and another. I wish I could have put in some money. However, he was on
the middle platform and I was not. Funny enough, my wallet was empty anyway.
I wanted a CD. Arrgh. I couldn't help but smile as the old man played, and soon about sixty commuters were smiling or/and staring in awe as he belted out his song. It was like falling in love for the first time.

Finally, at the end of the cresendo of his song, he received a resounding applause.

Twenty years taking the Red Line, and I've never seen or heard an ovation like that.

Back to Basics

The week has been quite interesting. I find myself going back to basics in a few important ways. I have re-dedicated myself to my writing in a way I haven't been able to in a couple of years. I'll be starting a new novel shortly, the pre-thinking just about done as well as the outlining.

Also I have decide to re-immerse myself in the world of motorcycling, one of my passions, after loss of my last motorcyle in the Fall of 2004.

Next, I decided to listen to some of the first and favorite samba songs I heard, and they took my back to some beautiful memories.

Most important though is that I'm pretening to be married to my wife for the first time. Doing some of the things that I haven't done is a while like let her win and working on patience. It has all made me feel younger and fully of a playfullness I have not felt in a while. I'm by no means old, but sometime with the day-to-day of work and family we can fall into a rut of routine. Things can feel stale and stagnant.

Thank the Lord for feeling like 13 again!

Rediscovering The Passion

Yes, I know Easter has past. However, passion is still relevant. In fact, I believe a life with out passion can't be much of a life. Granted there are many passions that manifest themselves in different ways. However, the core of any passion is to help you discover (or rediscover) who you are.

This is what keeps you young in spirit. Jesus would not have fully discovered himself had it not been for the Passion. In the same sense, until we experience our passion, life may seem rote or without direction. Most often we either lose our passion or are forced (or feel forced) to put it away or ignore its existence. However, that is usually to our determent and robs us of life.

People of the Book

On a recent trip to the library I picked up What Everyone Needs To Know About Islam, by John L. Esposito. It was one of the featured books in the lobby of the main branch of Boston Public Library. A year ago I would have passed by it. However, since returning back to Boston a year ago from Florida, and with recent boil of affairs in the Middle East, I felt it was important to re-educate myself in Islam.

Re-educated, because unlike most Americans I've lived in a country (Nigeria) that has a significant Muslim population (ie. everyone got Muslim holidays off). I have relatives and friends I grew up with that are Muslim. I remember vividly being awoken to the sound of Allahu Akbar! (God is the most great!) at daybreak, right before my mother would come to my room to wake me up for school.

I have a respect for Islam and Muslim for the simplest of reasons. I was exposed to them day-in-day-out at such a young age in a way that I took for granted, therefore I accepted it as normal. Although my immediate family was Christian it was understood that Islam and Christianity co-existed 99% of the time, amicably.

As I read this book, I realize I have been in the United States so long, I have forgotten some of the customs and holidays. However, I find I have a deeper appreciation, even as a Christian, for Islam as I am learning that there are more similarities with Christianity than I knew. Unfortunately, the combination of Sept. 11 and the behavior of extremists have tarnished Islam in the American public view for the worse.

The most important thing I've learned from reading this book so far is that Muslims per the Quran regard Jews and Christians as "people of The Book," that is they regards them as children of Abraham like themselves.

This helps to explains why from the time of Muhammed through my childhood in Nigeria and beyond why Muslims have been able to live together with Christians or Jews. While this is an oversimplification, it's clear that problem of course is what happens at the exteremes of any religion and who those extremists can sway.

Working for God

I was just watching (half-watching really) a show called "God or The Girl," a reality show about young Christian men debating joining the priesthood or not. One of the young men, age 21, decided he was going to go to seminary and continue working for God. I just loved that phrase "Working for God." I've always wanted to run my own company or at least be a free agent, but now I really enjoy working for God. I find that there is more fulfillment in that.

Now God’s company has a position for everyone hired. Imaging going to an interview where you’re hired just for being you and agreeing the Boss has a son and agreeing that He’s who He says He is?

Think about it. Everyone knows your Boss, and his authority is questioned only by the foolish (in my experience). He's really forgiving (i.e. it takes a lot for you to get fired, because if God fires you, you're screwed).

It also simplifies my life. I just ask myself, is what I'm doing what my boss (God) hired me to do (purpose)? If not, I drop it and refocus. It takes discipline though.

The pay is also pretty good. You pretty much get what you ask for, if the Boss approves it. And He encourages those who work for Him to ask. The benefits are great too, including retirement in eternity.

The Third Day

Yesterday, I celebrated Easter in a manner which I have not in a very long time. I spent Easter at my sisters’ church for the first time since Easter 1994 when I decided to no longer attend church because I felt the message was more about the Law than being released from the cursed of it.

I felt a bit like the prodigal son returning to a congregation of which many of the members I knew, but with a sense of the sweetness that is sung of in Amazing Grace. I was closer to the Lord than I had ever been, and my belief was greater than it had ever been.

Back in 1994 I knew the Lord, but I was not Born Again. I had experienced some of His awesome power but I was still searching for a truth that cannot be found (at least for me) in any church building.

In 2003, while living in South Florida, I returned physically, emotionally, and spiritually to Church, and in 2004 I was baptized (immersion) in front of my sister, nieces, and the congregation. Although, I had been christened in Nigerian at the age of 9, I was really riding on my parents’ belief and not my own.

That truth is that you can not be Born Again until you die to your past, and are resurrected beyond what you once were. No one can drag you to that. You must be called, and the calling must so compel you that you seek it out with a passion unparallel in any other area of your life.

When that happens, no one who knows you will have to ask you if you are saved, and how you know you are saved.

Talking With God At 4:00 a.m.

Everyonce in a while, I'm so rested (NOT), I find myself wide awake at 3-something in the morning unable to go back to sleep. This morning was one of those mornings. Part of the problem for me is a combination of being a light sleeper and being excited about all the wonderful things God is doing in my life right now.

My mind was occupied with how well my collaboration with some old grade school and high school friends had gone during our work on our 48-Hour Film Festival submission, this past weekend. After going on in my mind about the things we could have done better, I decided to thank God for what had gone not only right, but well.

Next, I thanked God for all the creative gifts he has given me. Also, I thanked God for all His provision, including my wife, our child on the way, our home, and daily bread.

Then I thanked God for giving me everything I ever asked for and which He provided in one way or another. I have gotten houses, cars, jobs, money, healings, and relationships beyond my expectations. God's approval rating with me is extremely high.

I spoke to God some more and told Him that since he's given me everything I've asked for in this life, I really wanted to continue to re-focus on asking for things for the benefit of others. I acknowledged that while there are some material and things that I would still like for myself and my family, those things were really just gravy compared to the steak I want for those in need. Those who I could serve with my talents. Situations in the world that required prayer. I asked Him to use me for those things.

Now, I don't mind so much being up and having my stomach growl. I'm spending my time thanking God, because I hunger for Him. Thank you Lord.

Praying for Little Things

I am always amazed about the power of prayer despite the number of my prayers that have been answered. What amazes me even more are the prayers for the little things that I've needed.

For example, last Friday I opted to join my colleagues for an improptu meeting and miss my usual commuter train. Before leaving for the meeting, I promised my wife I would be on the next train because I would only be at the meeting briefly.

Well, I ended up staying ten minutes longer than I should have. I ran furiously to the subway in hopes of making the right subway train to my commuter train station. I had to let two trains by, until my train came by.

From my estimation, I would just miss my train. I feverishly checked my wireless phone clock with each intermediate stop. Finally, with two stops to go until mine, it didn't look good.

I decided to pray. I really didn't want to disappoint my wife, especially since I would already be late home even if I CAUGHT this train. After the brief prayer, I let go, and let God.

When I got to my stop I ran out, glanced at the station clock as I whizzed by. It turns out my clock was four minutes fast. I made my train with minutes to spare.

Where Have All The Brothers Gone?

Now that I am back in Boston, I see the glaring social differences from my life in South Florida. One difference in particular is the lack of non-white minorities in the corporate arena. Specifically, brown men. Clearly, part of the reason is that there are more brown males per-capital in Broward Country (including Fort Lauderdale) than Suffolk County (including Boston).

Also, the cost of living is much higher in Boston than in Fort Lauderdale. In addition, there is much more basic service sector employment down in Fort Lauderdale than Boston.

Still, it's sad not to see as many brown faces as I used to in the work place in Florida. I think the result is that non-minorities are more comfortable in Fort Lauderdale than they are in Boston with minorities because they interact with them more often in their daily lives. There is nowhere for the non-minority to hide. Because of their increased exposure, more tolerace and acceptance is possible.

I have hope for Boston. With the Latin and Black populations increasing at the largest rates, soon non-minority Bostonian will have nowhere to hide.

Filling The Gap

I was on the train earlier this week and feeling a bit of despair over the goodness of my fellow American residents. Not inherent goodness, but the simpler stuff. Random acts of kindness!!! During this period of lent, both my pastor entreated their congregations to pray during the time for what they really wanted from Jesus.

After some thought and prayer I decided that what I wanted from Jesus was a ray of hope about the goodness of man. Hope as in Ezekiel for (22:30) someone to “stand in...the gap on behalf of the land.”

Later that night my wife and I were at Dunkin Donuts waiting on some relatives to arrive. We just planned to sit, however my wife decided she wanted some munchkins, just a couple. She was about the pay the cashier when he promptly bagged the munchkins, smiled, and told her to just take them. When my cousin-in-law arrived about ten minutes later, he did the same thing.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen such a random act of kindness. As I write this, I realized that such acts reside in each of us, waiting to come out. It’s doesn’t take money, and it doesn’t take fame. It’s just take faith and courage that each of us can be part of those who will stand in the gap.

Walking The Line

I don’t go to the movies as much as I used to or would like to. In general ,the return on investment is not as good as it used to be. Fortunately for Hollywood, my wife is an avid movie lover and has rekindled my love for small and independent theaters. My wife, being a Reese Witherspoon, and myself a long time Joaquim Phoenix fan, Walk The Line was an easy choice. Plus, the closest theater was the cheapest.

I wasn’t sure what to expect. After all, despite my motley musical taste, I could only name one Johnny Cash song off the top of my head. Similar to Ray Charles, Cash had lost a brother in his youth, and then struggled with internal and external demons as he rose to fame.

After seeing the movie, I came to appreciate the title.Ultimately, we all have to walk the line. We all have to stick to the path God put us on regardless of the things of this world that will try to misdirect us. The good news is that if we are faithful to that line, God will provide us a way to stay on the line, and even better, provide us a way back to the line if we should veer off it.

Running Your Own Race

Working in technology has its advantages. One has access and information that keeps one informed on the latest trends and tools to “make life easier”. It also has its drawbacks. There’s always someone who has a newer gadget, cooler website, or just plain better information than you do.

Too much of this indulgence can cause one to become discouraged, especially when time is such a premium as one ages. It’s easier to tell yourself, well why bother doing “X” if so-and-so has a better “X”. This I believe is a side-effect of capitalism. Why have a mediocre “X”, when you can have a cooler “X” for a little more, or better yet, the same price. It makes sense.

Then while listening to a podcast sermon, I was reminded that we each have our calling according to who we are, and how God has blessed us. In other words, there are things that only you can do because you are meant to do those things. Furthermore there are some things can you can only do in tandem with others.

It is easy to be envious of someone who is where we want to be, or who has achieved what we are struggling to (keeping up with the Joneses, if you will). In the end, we will never have time to do all the things we want to do, to the extend we want to do those things.

What I find that helps, is to do what we are called to do, to the level of ability we have to do it, and to the extent that we can, every day.

My Second Gray Hair, Thank God

About a week ago I discovered my second gray hair. It’s a nice, long and obvious one, as firsts are. It is a strong reminder that I am no longer growing up, but growing old, and will eventually pass into decay.

With Prayer and Petition.

Today’s title came to mind a few days back and stuck there. I had no idea in what context, but it made me smile.

You see, people tend to ask for things they want. However, how often do people ask for what they need. Furthermore, when people do ask for their wants or/and need, how often do they believe they will receive them? Babies don't seem to have this issue at all.

As we age we get used to varying levels of denial. We make ask for a raise, and we hope we get it. We ask the bank for a loan, and we hope we get it. We may even propose marriage, and we are pretty sure that the answer will be yes.

How often do we pray about these things, and give our requests to God?
How often to we ask for something and EXPECT, BELIEVE, or KNOW that we will receive it.

I once read a medical article saying that patients chances of beating certain illnesses have as much to do with their personal belief that they will get better as whatever treatment they receive.

You may or may not believe in God, but you ought to believe in something.

Twenty Children Cannot Play for Twenty Years.

I was going through some old picture of my mothers of my cousins and myself and I was reminded of one of her perennial saying. “Twenty Children Cannot Play for Twenty Years. I was never sure what she meant until I look through all of her pictures. Most of them were dated 1985, 1986, or 1987. The snapshots were of smooth faces, bright eyes, and dated hairstyle fashions.

As I moved to my pictures that included 2000 and beyond I could see the difference in smiles, or lack thereof, spreading faces with facial hair, longer waistlines, shorter hair, and longer skirts. A lot of our youth and black hair had given way to more serious affairs over the last twenty years, such as jobs, mortgages, marriages, wives, separations, and kids.

The key thing that had changed was our smiles. There were far less of them. The wear and tear of life had laid into each of us in one way or another, and to one extent or another. Life had less weight to it then. Things were simpler. We all had less experience back then, but the problems of life were far less complicated.

Back then we were all on the same level in life. We were all still in high school. The world had yet to hold us accountable in the way it does now as men.

Play time, as we knew it is long over. Now, we have to make a point to remember to play, and more importantly, play with one another. Play in such a way to bring some of those smiles from the 80s back.

What To Do For Valentine’s Day?

It’s funny that Valentine’s Day is a different date in at least two other countries I know of. As I found out from my wife, Valentine’s Day is an even bigger deal in Nigeria than here in the United States. It seems I have my work cut out for me.

However, I’m loathe to give retailers more money for yet another pseudo-holiday. After all no one had to shell out oodles of cash on Martin Luther King, Jr.’s holiday, and that I would be happy to do.

My beef with the way Valetine’s Day is celebrated (here anyway) is that it has the danger of becoming a barometer for the relationship that it’s celebrating, if the givers aren’t careful. Especially, when recipient begin to compare gifts with one another. “Wow! You got three diamond rings AND a trip to France? I just got a rose and candy.”

With all that said, I have it in mind that it is my responsibility to know what pleases my lady (or at least do the research) and vice-versa. A ton of money doesn’t have to be spent. One can really be creative to give a gift that is priceless, just as love is.