A Spoken Word…

Hotep,

I don’t attend church as often as I should, but today (3/30/14) I was drawn to the first floor conference room, in search of a Divine message.  It was there; I met a true revolutionary for Christ, the Reverend Ann Beck.  Her sermon was titled, “Divine Restoration,” and centered on John 9:1-7.  This is the story of Jesus restoring the sight of a blind man, using saliva and dirt. 

Sista Beck vigorously reminded the congregation that restoration comes through the Creator.  “Material things can’t restore our brokenness.  Trying to fix yourself without help only gets you into trouble.”

At the conclusion of the service, I introduced myself – revealing that I was a blogger inspired by her message.  I asked her to allow me to share this message with the world.  Her initial skepticism was overshadowed by the vigor of her mission, and translated her approval with a firm look and a stern, “yes, you may.”

I was thrilled to say the least.  The fire within her words inspires me to share an example of how one person’s brokenness can be used to restore the brokenness of others.  So here we go:

2k13 has come and gone.  For some, 2k13 came to an end in a similar fashion as all other years spent inside this box.  For me, 2k13 concluded with high hopes of prosperity, and an emotional hurricane that made our final class of the first semester, a literary milestone for anyone in attendance. 

You see, prior to 12/18/13 (final day of first semester) I wrote an essay that illuminated the brokenness surrounding the dress code for North Carolina death row prisoners.  

The title actually came to me in a dream.  “Blood On My Sleeves: the shade of reproof.” (http://word2themasses.blogspot.com/2013/12/blood-on-my-sleeves-shade-of-reproof.html)

I didn’t expect to share this expression with the class.  I wasn’t planning to post it on this blog either, but Divine Intervention will always prevail, right?  At the request of my classmates, I closed out the semester with a thought to grow on.  At the conclusion of reading this piece, a dry eye within our space was light years far from commonplace.  Feel me?

My disdain for the red jumpsuit somehow bridged a gap between myself and those garbed in civilian attire.  Crazy, right?  I mean, standing deep down in the valley; looking up at the beautiful snowcaps of the mountains above, I had no idea that my voice could trigger such an avalanche of pent-up emotions that would tether every person in that classroom, to the reality of being buried alive.  The sense of digging our way out is now, a universal understanding.

The restoration of my brokenness in 2k13 made way for a smooth transition with immeasurable optimism setting the pace.  This week of March 24, 2014 is worthy of being chronicled as a long-awaited transition; a transition that has been in the making since the origin of this W2TM movement. 

Four years ago, I merely wanted to be heard.  I wanted people to know that I am still here.  Today, I’m capitalizing on an opportunity to be heard on a much broader scale.  Na mean?

My journaling instructor, Mrs. Tessie Castillo, has been instrumental in helping me to understand that my position against capital punishment isn’t exclusive to my current circumstance.  This will be my life’s work.  I shared this with my team of literary expressionists, “FFLOW,” during our planning session on 3/27/14. 

I closed out the session with a much-spirited recite of, “Pace of Passion” (http://word2themasses.blogspot.com/2013/11/pace-of-passion.html).  This time it wasn’t my brokenness that reached the people; it was the realization that a spoken word can shake a dying soul.  Ya heard?

“Get the mud our of your mind.”

Reverend Ann Beck

Still Livin,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2014 by Leroy Elwood Mann