Breath of Heaven

During the Christmas season, I don’t listen to much holiday music. Sometimes, its just to much! I’m one of those people who gets really tired of hearing the same thing over and over again! It seems like every year they start playing Christmas music earlier and earlier....Am I wrong? This year, radio stations seemed to start playing it on Thanksgiving day!(maybe they do it every year but in my mind it’s way too early this year.) 

One song that I always love is a song made popular by Amy Grant called “ Breath of Heaven”.  It’s known as “Mary’s song”. I remember hearing it many years ago while performing for a local event in my hometown sung by a young woman who portrayed  Mary. I loved the melody and its simplicity. It wasn’t until this year that I really understood deeply the lyrics. They seem to stand out to me and be so relevant.  

From the surface, it just seems to be Jesus’ mom saying “ Listen God, you gave me this baby and it ain’t easy. Help me. Not saying I can’t do it, I can.... but not without you”

How is that relevant for a young black male? (For the record, I am not pregnant and I’m too full off Piss, Vinegar, and Vodka to carry God’s son!)

I am waiting in a silent prayer. I am frightened by the load I bare. In a world as cold as stone, must I walk this path alone? Be with me now, Be with me now.

That lyric alone describes what we all feel to be true at times. Being honest with yourself, you know that you’ve had time when it feels almost overwhelming. Especially when you know you’ve done everything according to what you felt is right. When things don’t go right, you start to ask questions: 

Do you wonder, as you watch my face if a wiser one, should have had my place?

Am I where I should be? Am I doing this right? Did I listen to the wrong voice? What have I done? 

This is human! These are real, legitimate questions! 

No matter what your personal answers are, Mary’s prayer is a good reply. You know she had doubts! Young, prego, unmarried! She was scared out of her mind! She did the only thing she could:

But I offer all I am, for the mercy of your plan. Help me be strong. Help me be. Help me.

 She said “Help me be strong”. “Help me be”.... JUST HELP ME!

That was an honest prayer. This very real example of fear, exhaustion, doubt, confusion....i’m sure some anger, is a very real prayer for so many people today including myself. Mary held on through the mystery of why this was happening to her and what this all meant. She had those fears but continued on, believing that everything would be ‘ok’ because she was chosen and loved. She believed with everything that was in her that she did hold inside of her the strength to get through this....Literally. She survived. Guess what? We will too. Inside of us is that same strength. 

Breath of heaven, hold me together. Be forever near me. Breath of heaven. Breath of heaven, lighten my darkness, pour over me your holiness, for you are holy. Breath of heaven.

Link to the song

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPbV_HTpyx0

"Trust me, I'm working it out"

“Trust me, Im working it out”  These words have come to mind a lot recently. I recently saw “The Help”. The movie was about housekeepers in  the south back in the early 60s. One of the women who raised me was a housekeeper, Godmother Shirley. From as a long as I can remember, she was my best friend and not only that, she was woman who took care of everyone. As a child, I would speak to her on the phone while she was at work but we had to be very cautious because she was calling me from the houses of the people she worked for(this was when cellphones were not such a staple to  the common family). She would call and check on me, make sure I was doing ok and had a good day at school etc. She worked for a family that was prominent in town. To this day, I’m not exactly sure what they did but whatever it was, it sure made a lot of money! The Patriarch of the family loved my Godmother. He always said “Dont worry about anything, Shirley. Trust me, I’m working it out!”. A few days after his funeral, they read his will and Godmother was sure she would have something.....NOTHING. After years of taking care of this family, not a cent. Not a dime. She was crushed! As hurt as she was, that didn’t stop her for doing what she was called to do- Taking care of people. She said to me “ It don't matter. God’s working it out!” 

Let’s flash forward 10 years. There she was still doing what she felt she had been called to do day in and day out. One day, out of nowhere, she gets a letter and a check from another family she had worked for tirelessly, never complaining about the conditions or her own pains. The letter said “we are so thankful for everything you are doing for us. You haven’t given up on us or failed us. You have been so faithful to us. We love you so much, Shirley. You are family.” The check was an amount that she could never imagine or would have ever expected and the checks continued to come until the day she died. 

Just because we can’t see how things are being worked out or the things we expect don’t come through when we want them to, that doesn’t mean that the plans aren’t being worked out for us. 

Let’s keep the faith, keep working tirelessly to what we know we are suppose to do and know that God is right by us, even when we think He isn’t, saying

 “Trust me, I’m working it out”

..It was only the beginning

I never thought that I would would survive as long as I have. It all happen so fast. A girl entered the room with an envelope that looked to have pictures in it. The phone rang and my best friend Kathy went into the office to answer it. I stopped teaching the class to greet the girl at the door. I instructed them to look over their music. The girl handed me the envelope with a smile on her face. I replied with a thank you. I turned around to go back to teaching the class and saw Kathy come out of the office. I could see by the look in her eyes and the redness of her face that she was fighting back tears. Everyone in the class knew something was wrong...except me. She walked towards me and said we needed to talk outside. As we walked toward the double doors, my mind knew this wasn't good news. After we stepped outside, she said "Antony.." . She paused and began to choke up. "She's gone to heaven". I just stood there for a moment in disbelief. So many thoughts ran through my head. I screamed. I screamed so loud that a teacher from the classroom next to  us walked out to see what was wrong. It was at that moment I realized that I would never be what I thought was "normal" again. It was at that moment that I realized my heart had been full even though I always thought it wasn't. That was the moment I realized my heart had a lost a place that could never be filled. It was the beginning of heartache. It was the beginning of pain that never stops. It was.....life.

Repost: Hospitality

Hospitality is a Character!!!

Hospitality refers to the relationship process between a guest and a host, and it also refers to the act or practice of being hospitable, that is, the reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers, with liberality and goodwill. Hospitality frequently refers to the hospitality industry jobs for hotels, restaurants, casinos, catering, resorts, clubs and any other service position that deals with tourists.
Hospitality is also known as the act of generously providing care and kindness to whomever is in need.
Today , I was shown Hospitality. OK. It sounds simple. But its ironic that it happened today.

On Sunday, The sermon was about "Christ-centered Hospitality" my Church, St. Luke's. Our Pastor, Jenn, gave several examples. Today's hospitality conjures images of throwing good parties, gracious hosts entertaining, etiquette, Martha Stewart or even talk shows, or, the hospitality services industry as it relates to the entertainment and tourism business. On the other hand, hospitality used to be, and still is, a serious duty, responsibility, or ethic. Hospitality ethics is a discipline that studies this usage of hospitality.

The sermon awesome. Not to "toot my own horn", but I try to do that. If I learned anything from my Godmother and mother, it's to be hospitable to anyone and everyone.

But today, I was shown what Hospitality is truly about. I came into work. Very tired. I had work a double the day before. My show requires 2 people. Well today, the person who was suppose to come in, called out. No one else would come in to replace them.( Although, it would have been overtime.)
There is was. 7:30 AM. Tired. Not feeling well. In pain because of the cold. This would have required me to do a 2 person show with 700 hundred guest to entertain. To say the least, I was worried!
The people I work with, who have additional responsibilities, stepped up to the plate and helped me. I didn't even ask them. They just saw the need and helped. They Did what Christ would have done. They put there own jobs on the line. They weren't thinking about themselves, they were thinking about helping someone else and making sure that everyone would enjoy themselves.

Today, in a place where I MUST show hospitality and very rare am shown that same hospitality that I give out, I was shown true "Christ-centered Hospitality".

I've been questioning something about my job. Am I liked? Do people care about what I give? Is this where I'm suppose to be? Should I leave?

Because of the hospitality of those people, All of these questions have been answered. Today, they were my "Bridge over troubled water"

Thanks to all of you that were there for me today. [Image]
I know you guys have got my back. LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!

Regards,

Antony

http://antonylarry.blogspot.com/

The Leader of the band, Mr JC

All this week I have been thinking about  my dad, Mr. JC. (That's what everyone called him around town). He was a true man. 6'0 tall, skinny as pole,  always had a cigarette in his mouth. His father was black, his mother Cherokee indian which made his skin a beautiful mahogany shade of brown. He always had a 5'o clock shadow!

  When I was 5 years old, he became my goddaddy and low and behold, he and my Godmother, Shirley, adopted me when I was 7 or 8, he and Shirley adopted me and made me there son. 

 Getting to know JC was very interested. He was a tall man in stature and had a vocabulary that would make a sailor blush! Let's just say that I have heard a swear word that describes doing something to your mother that no son would ever do, many times.(If i'm not careful, it easily becomes part of my vocabulary!). When I was in trouble, I would rather be beaten with a wire hanger than have to hear what goddaddy was gonna say. He never berated me but I knew what he expected of me. In just a few words, he could sum up what 50 "whoopins" would not. 

  One of my earliest memories of goddaddy( my daddy, Mr. JC) was of him going to the pantry, taking out a bottle of homemade Cane Syrup that his best friend, John, brought over (by the box load I might add) from his family and sitting it on the table. My Godmother would then give him a dinner plate from the cabinet along with the "Butt bread"(the ends of a loaf of bread). He poured the Cane Syrup on the plate and then scooped it onto the butt bread until he had sopped up every last bit of that syrup! He called it S(short for another four letter word that rhythms with spit) on shingle.

 Fast-forward 5 or so years ago when I discovered the internet. One night, I decided to "google" S on a shingle. All I could find for that named was Chipped beef. What Godaddy ate was definitely NOT chipped beef. When I approached him about it, he and I had a debate about why they call chipped beef "S on a shingle" and it ended like most other debates he and I had: He laughed that hearty, deep masculine laughed that he always did and said "Boy, I just call it that. It's what I like. Ok? You can call it what you want but it's mine and I like calling it that, ok?". I would reply "Yes sir" and then return to my room defeated.

 Looking back, He was giving me a simple message. He didn't care what anyone else called this unsual dish. It was his dish and he would call it what he wanted whether anyone else liked it or not. Years later, he told spoke words that, to this day, bring tears to my eyes. This 80 year old man who loved me despite his personal feelings about my lifestyle said "You are Antony, (insert bad word decribed earlier). Be you now matter what anybody says. I don't give a goddarn(r=m) what they say!". 

  Who knew a simple piece of bread and some syrup could be the key to living life.
Love and miss my daddy, Mr. JC. 

"I think we're lost"

"I'm lost!"

I don't think I have ever heard a man actually utter those words.

Well this man has!

I can't believe this week is over! It's been such a great week! My birthday was Monday(March 8, 19xx). It has been so much fun! I've only had to slap 3 people for asking my age. I've felt so loved and reassured that people care about me for who I am. I have been brought to tears at least 9 times this week!

Have you ever felt "lost"? I don't mean physically(we've all been lost at one time or another). I mean mentally. That feeling of not knowing the next step or direction. It really sucks! You're standing there going " uh.....". 

For me, this is nothing new. I'm sure you can think of this first time you've felt this way. The first time for me was in high school when I came out of the closet and then didn't know what to do next with my gay, beautiful self :-) .

When my Godmother died in 2008, my life was over. There wasn't going to ever be any direction! God wasn't in the picture or the forecast. There was no hope!

Then came that birthday. I wanted to stay in my room, away from anything reminiscent of "Celebrating". But then this mob showed up at my door step with torches and booze in hand, chanting. That night, we painted the town! Lawd knows we did! They were with me, behind me, in front of me, supporting me!

This year was no different. Like that birthday in 2008, the day after I still felt lost but I was reassured that people were with me. I may be lost, but friends were with me down that unknown road, laughing, crying, cursing, with me. 

I am thankful that God has put people in our lives that just by saying " Hello"or sharing a smile or a hug, show us that no matter how lost we are we are not alone.

Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone. 

Antony

Today? I'll have time tomorrow

Last week Trina posed some questions:
 "If today was your last day and tomorrow was to late could you say goodbye to yesterday? Would live each moment like your last? " 
These are questions friends normally only ask each other when they've been drinking.(Nothing out of the ordinary for us ;-) Actually she sang this song in church. 


When she sang this song I thought it sounded great. It wasn't until I was having a "moment" earlier this week that I actually thought about the words. If I knew that tomorrow I was going to kick the bucket, buy the farm, eat the tuna salad (Or whatever euphemism you want to use to describe Death), what would I do differently today? What would really matter? 
And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?Let me start by saying: Life happens, kiddos and there are some things that you just can't avoid and you shouldn't. They are things that you must face head on. However, there are many things on our minds that are just not worth thinking about. Jesus! If knew I had 24 hours to live, would this woman who called me a bitch because she is jealous really matter? Would the fact that I spent just a little to much on something I shouldn't have really matter? Would the constant cheerfulness of the costume lady in my dressing room at 7:30 AM really matter?(Yes...I just wanna slap her!) I don't think so!
If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
If I was to die tomorrow, the small stuff wouldn't matter. I will have wasted my last day worrying about all these little things while not doing what I really want to do. I knew that. The question that remained was: Why? Why do I still worry over these things? Why do I make the same mistake everyday? How do I move forward?


I read the lyrics, something popped out at me:
each day's a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride

And there it was: That first step you take is the longest stride. Ding!! The light went off(It was way to late in the evening and if I died the next day, I would have been screwed but I didn't so.... woo-hoo!) If we can get past that first step and recognize this "problem" and weigh it on the grand scale, then we can move past it. I asked myself if these things actually matter in the whole picture? When I answered myself, I realized that things I actually needed to carry with me were not going to leave me but in time, these little things would leave me. I think I'd rather get rid of them now. That way, I would have more room to focus on the things that would carry me through to tomorrow and be worth of my last day.

So do whatever it takes
'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life
Let nothing stand in your way
'Cause the hands of time are never on your side

What if today was our last day?

Antony