What would Martin Luther King, Jr. think about the black community if he were alive today?

What would Martin Luther King, Jr. think about the black community if he were alive today?

What would he think about how we have become apathetic about the “right to vote that he fought so hard and diligently for? Would he shed a tear for each night that he spent in jail so that we could sit at home on Election Day, unconcerned about the politics of the day?

Would he hang his head in shame to know that the beatings that he took and the lives that were lost were all in vain because we do not care enough about the world around us to go out and cast our ballots for what we believe in?

Would his eyes cloud over in anger to know that the things he gave his life for, the betterment of his race, the advancement of the Black Community and equal justice, have all been for naught?

What would Dr. King think about our youth today? The youth that was born of a proud people who respected life, family and most of all God? Would he become overcome with rage to know that mothers, grandmothers, and sisters are only seen as sex objects in songs and videos?

Would he be vexed at the notions that safe sex and not abstinence, is taught in school. That sex outside of marriage is okay as long as you use protection and birth control?

Would he become appalled at the sight of our young men wearing clothes that were born out of a prison culture and young women wearing clothes so revealing that they leave nothing to the imagination?

Would he cringe at the realization that it is no longer the Klu Klux Klan who is killing off our black men but instead our black men who are killing off each other?

What would his thoughts be about the black mother who once protected their young like a lioness protects her cubs who has now has become indifferent about her children to the point that she would allow them to suffer physical, emotional and sexual abuse at the hands of her man just to keep him?

What would he see as he walked through a once thriving black neighborhood that was filled with prosperous black owned businesses? Boarded up, burnt out, and vacated buildings that were once at the very center of our black economy?

Would he look into the faces of our young men and women and see the next great leader who would guide the black community into our next victory? Would he be proud of the men and women whom we have chosen to be our political voices at the city, state and national levels to lead our causes and address our concerns?

What do you imagine he would say after visiting one of our neighborhood churches and seeing the lack of support that the church is giving back to the community? Would he be impressed with today’s mega-churches that have thousands in their congregation yet fails to help that same congregation with some of life’s most necessities like food, clothing, or housing?

Would the man who staged not one but two marches on Washington be impressed with the pastor who drives a Cadillac or maybe even a Rolls Royce while his congregation is forced to stand in the cold in the wee morning hours catching a bus to work each day?

How would Dr. King react to the notion that even though we are now in the twenty-first century not only are we discriminated against outside of our race but even within it? That the color of your skin, the grade of your hair, the job that you have are all factors that we judge one another by?

How would Martin feel as he looked into the eyes of the black father today? Would he see his own reflection? A man who believed in putting God and his family first or would he see a Godless man who shuns his responsibilities, leaving his children wondering when they will see their father again as their mother struggles alone to provide for them?

If he visited one of our schools, would he notice that the pledge of allegiance, our national anthem, and prayer are no longer allowed to be spoken aloud? Would he be horrified to see the next generation of our children fail because we have failed to provide them with an education?

Dr. King once said, “If you will protest courageously, and yet with dignity and Christian love, when the history books are written in future generations, the historians will have to pause and say, "There lived a great people - a black people - who injected new meaning and dignity into the veins of civilization."

Would Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. still think of us as a great people or would he turn his back so that no one could see the tears that he is now sheds as he stands on the mountaintop looking at today’s black man and woman?

I wonder, What would Martin think?
"Caught in the Middle"
Coming Spring 2010

jackiemoore@virtuousliving.com
http://www.jacquelinedmoore.com
http://www.peaceinthestormpublishing.com

Peace of Mind by Jackie Moore

In a world filled with causes for worry and anxiety ... we need the peace of God standing guard over our hearts and minds.

Scripture:
The LORD make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace. Numbers 6:25-27 (New International Version)

So often our days are fraught with worry and anxieties. We worry about all sorts of things; our children, spouses, friends and even our jobs. We worry about paying our bills and putting food on the table. And for some of us, we worry if we are doing enough in the pursuit of our dreams. Finding that elusive thing called “peace of mind” often feels as though we are on an impossible quest.

As time goes on as we get older, one would think finding peace becomes easier. Not always true. As we grow in knowledge and are exposed to many more things, often times because we have the courage to move out of our comfort zones, our fears and anxieties are magnified. In our quest to not become content with where we are, we must learn to step out on faith and face our fears. However by doing so, we will be challenged with the unknown and as such, opening ourselves up for a whole new set of challenges.

The word of God tells us to cast our cares on the Lord and HE will sustain us. Now that is easier said than done. But what it ultimately means for your and I is this; when we learn to let go of our fears and anxieties and learn to lean and depend on God; He can and WILL give us the peace of mind needed to face our difficulties.

Only God can give us the peace that passes all understanding.

Be blessed

Prayer:
Father God, we come before the throne of grace with praise and thanksgiving on our tongues and in our hearts. We come asking Lord, for peace that passes all understanding. We come asking for strength to stand in the face of adversity. Father God, we ask that when we grow tired from doing good and when our efforts are received with scorn, that we would be reminded that what we do is not about us, but rather, all about You. Master, we need You to speak to the winds of adversity that are blowing against us, peace be still. We come asking that You hold on to our hands and the storms of life toss us about. We come asking that You would hide us under the wings of Your salvation as the roaring lion draws near in an effort to devour us. Lord, we ask that You would keep all of our families, friends, co-workers and brothers and sisters in perfect peace this and every day. Bless us right now in the name of Jesus. Our prayers are not complete until we let You know just how much we love You. Our prayers on not complete until we sing songs of praise to You alone. Lord, we lift Your name on high, we give You all of our love, all of our praise and sing songs of praise all the day long. Thank You Lord for one more day. Bless You Lord. Hallelujah, Praise God thank You Jesus, Amen.



"Caught in the Middle"
Now Available!
http://www.jacquelinedmoore.com
jackiemoore@virtuousliving.com
http://www.peaceinthestormpublishing.com

My favorite Christmas memory by Jackie Moore

Each year, my entire family, siblings, cousins, aunties and uncles, gathers together to celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve. Each year, we hold our celebrations at different family members houses. A few years ago our yearly celebration was held at my house. Needless to say, I had well over fifty family members of all different ages all under one roof.

The living room was full of presents for everyone in attendance and we had prepared a feast for all to partake of. Our Christmas celebration was in full swing but there was one little problem. Somehow, I had contracted a debilitating stomach flu and I was sick as a dog. I attempted to carry on as usual, but alas, my stomach was not going to cooperate. At one point, as I opened my front door to greet more guests, I literally ran out the door to empty the contents of my stomach onto my front lawn. Needless, to say, I had to leave my guests to fend for themselves as I retired to my room for the remainder of the evening.

On Christmas day, both of my sons were as sick as I was and we all spent the day asleep in my bed with buckets at our bedside just in case we couldn't make it to the bathroom. That year, Christmas day passed us by. On December twenty-sixth, I awakened to the sounds of laughter and the smell of something delicious wafting its way up to my room. Feeling well enough to venture downstairs, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Santa Claus had not passed us by.

Sometime during the night, Christmas elves had stopped by my house and delivered a bag full of gifts and food. Not only that, my kitchen as well as the rest of my house was as clean as a whistle and all the toys had been assembled with nary a missing part.

My sons and I had missed Christmas day that year because of of our illness but my siblings made sure that the spirit of Christmas still made its appearance.



"Caught in the Middle"
Now Available!
http://www.jacquelinedmoore.com
jackiemoore@virtuousliving.com
http://www.peaceinthestormpublishing.com

Musketeer Christmas by Lorraine Elzia

Musketeer Christmas
My fondest memory of Christmas comes from the first Christmas after my sister and I figured out that our gifts did not come from a jolly white bearded man in a red suit, but from our single parent mother who worked overtime at two jobs just to see us smile on Christmas day.
We were the three musketeers; my mother, my sister and me. It was us against the world and we seemed to hold our own. The only time an outsider was let into the posse was for Christmas when my sister and me welcomed Santa into the fold.
In those early years, my sister and I never understood why Santa’s handwriting looked a lot like mommy’s on the tags on the gifts under the tree. Nor did we understand why her prideful eyes held a little bit of jealousy as we sang praises to Santa for our gifts.
With age comes wisdom and if age doesn’t school you, other kids will. Soon the proverbial grapevine told us there was no Santa and that our mom was the one supplying the gifts. We didn’t want to believe them, but the left over cookies in the refrigerator and the half-drank glass of milk with her lipstick on the glass made her suspect. It soon dawned on us that the schoolyard grapevine was right and Santa wouldn’t leave cookies in a fridge he wouldn’t visit again for another year and from everything we had been told about him, he didn’t wear Avon shade #12 lipstick either, so we knew the truth was that Santa and mommy were one in the same.
After opening our gifts that first Christmas after our discovery, my sister and I allowed our mother to hang on for a little while to the belief that her daughters still had the innocent belief in fairytales and myths. But that Christmas we just said how thankful we were for being fortunate enough to receive gifts; we no longer gave the glory to the man in the red suit. Our mother’s eyes began to have less envy in them for the sleigh driver who had stolen part of her joy for years. When she went into the kitchen she saw the note we had left on the plate of half-eaten cookies that said, “Thanks for all you do.”
That Christmas, we started a new tradition, every Christmas morning we would go out in the front yard, lay down in the snow and move our arms and legs side to side leaving snow angles on our lawn. Mommy was always in the middle with a daughter on each side. We left our marks every Christmas morning that we didn’t need Santa or anyone else because we were, and always would be, the Three Musketeers.

Lorraine Elzia is the award-winning author of "Mistress Memoirs" and "Ask Nicely and I Might." Please visit her online at www.lorrraineelzia.com.

What Christmas means to me by Jessica A. Robinson

What Christmas means to me: when I think of this very special holiday, one word comes to mind and that's FAMILY. The one holiday that brings everyone together no matter where they are in the world. I also think of Christmas as a time of reflection of the entire year and being thankful to get another chance to celebrate such a wonderful holiday. No matter if you have money or a million gifts under the tree, as long as you spend Christmas with the people you love you'll feel like the richest person on earth. That's what Christmas means to me.


Jessica A. Robinson is the author of the best-selling Holy Seduction, and Pretty Skeletons. Purchase your copy of Holy Seduction from Black Expressions, and all of her books are available in Kindle, Nook and paperback, and whereever books are sold.

Two Years ago by LaToya S. Watkins

Two years ago

It was Christmas Eve and I was excited about having two weeks off from work b/c I would get to spend time with my mother-in-law who was living with us at the time. She was suffering from MS (had been for more than 20 years), so I was waiting for my sister to come and sit with her so that I could go out and do some last minute shopping. I went into her bedroom with my laptop and sat pecking away at my latest novel. She had been a librarian when she could work and loved reading and books. I began to read the story to her aloud and she asked me for the title of the book. I told her it didn’t one and that maybe she could help me choose and she offered a smile, which was difficult (b/c of the pain) for her.

I didn’t to get a chance to finish my last minute shopping b/c she closed her eyes forever before my sister showed up. I titled my book Dorothy, after her, because that strained smile helped me to remember what was so wonderful about life the next day.

LaToya S. Watkins
Author of In Love with Losers and Dorothy
www.latoyaswatkins.com
http://latoyaswatkins.wordpress.com/

Memories of White Christmases Past by S.D. Denny

Memories of White Christmases Past
Most everyone who knows me knows that I’m a native New Yorker that has been transplanted in the south for many years. Although I love the beauty of the warm weather and lush landscapes that the south offers, I will never give up my dreams for a White Christmas. I smile as I remember the days of my youth, watching the snow fall against the Brooklyn asphalt on Christmas Eve, wondering what it will look like when I awaken the next morning. On Christmas day, my sister and brother and I would awaken early and go running into the living room to see what Santa had left under the tree for us. But before anyone opened a gift, we’d all stand at the window, marveling at the blanket of snow that covered the ground outside our third floor apartment. It may as well had been a scene from a Thomas Kinkade painting, the kind you see on the butter cookie tins that Grandma always had sitting on the counter, right next to the holiday nuts and ribbon candy. All day, we’d watch the snow fall and listen to my mother’s Gene Autry Christmas album. Christmas day has an unexplainable beauty of its own, but a white Christmas gives the day that extra touch that makes it just a bit more magical.

~S.D. Denny is the author of "The Baker's Dozen," and soon to be released "Half."
Learn more about this dynamic author at www.sddenny.com.