don’t mean I love you. Just because I have friended you on social media, doesn’t give you the right to say whatever you want to me. You don’t know me. You may follow my news feed or see the bible verses I love and think you get me, but trust me you don’t.
If you have read any of my books you will know that there is a edge to me, and it is sharp as glass. Glass is dangerous if you mishandle it. It can be very useful and helpful in many ways, but if misused, it can hurt you.
I was born in the basement of a segregated hospital in one of the richest countries in the world. This means I was brought into a society as a second class citizen by people who knew better. God had blessed them with much and they refused to share. This means ABSOLUTELY no Caucasian person can tell me about racism. You don’t get to decide what racism is. You don’t get to decide how I feel about it. Your parents forfeited the right for you to chat about this to me.
The Lord has spent the last year taking me back to the roots of where I came from. He has allowed me to see what is important and what is trivial. He taught me some people I don’t even need to associate with. He will deal with them Himself. If I cut you loose, trust me, the Lord thought it was a good idea. And I believe Him.
The Lord keeps me on a short leash. But it is still a leash. This means you can be cussed out or knocked out which ever I deem appropriate for the circumstance. So you might want to pray and ask God to give you some words to say to me or we might both be in lock up if you decide you want to approach me with your opinion.
If you don’t like what I post, unfollow me. If you don’t understand the post, inbox or call me. I keep it all public. I keep it all real.
God has promised to free the oppressed and I will keep shouting to the Lord for freedom. Someone said the media caused the problem, but the media ain’t shooting black men and killing black women in prison, authority is.
Like Isaiah, I am going to keep on talking till the Lord handles it. But since Isaiah wasn’t raised in the Fort Worth hood, you will have to deal with the likelihood of being cussed out if you approach me wrong. But y’all keep praying.
peace and hair grease