A Message From The Publisher
When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears, and delivers them out of all their distress and troubles. Psalm 34:17 (Amplified Bible)
By Bobby R. Henry, Sr.
The sound of a choking baby suspended my entrenched worshiping experience; however, what really engrossed my attention was seeing all of the women who physically directed their bodies and emotions to the alarm of the baby’s need.
I begin to wonder, who would come to the battlefield with wounded and scared Black people (marred by outright racism) or the disenfranchised (who have been led by a treasonous rapist) who peddle tennis shoes degrading a people who entertainers have pimped?
There was no mistaking that the baby in need had commanded and garnished, allied and readied rescue forces that it had not known nor was the baby even aware of the attention.
The old Alka-Seltzer song- plop plop, fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is!- could have served as the battle cry for that baby.
While the battle cry for those who believe the hype that 29% of Black America will vote for Trump is: I pity the fool!
In another setting I found myself mesmerized and almost speechless do to the ‘mush mouth’ voice of him a shameless Black person on stage, saying “I love you Trump” while the echoes of the voices that had come before us said, I would rather die standing for the right to live as a man as opposed to living on my knees as a slave to racism.
On the last week of the celebration of Black History Month, let’s take ‘A Walk Through History ’to listen to the voices and feel the pain and power of what it meant to live as a free people.
As we take that walk through our History, let us be reassured the living that the honor of those who came before us will continue to be realized and celebrated for the invaluable services of their great contributions.
A moment which can affirm and magnify our existence and bring credibility to our spirits to overcome this unpleasant people. Can humble them like a punch in their stomachs but the hurt and pain that we are being subjected to when we do not fight back will bring tears of agony to the commemoration of the souls who lay witness to our brilliance that is tarnished by spirits of cowards.
For those who could still convey actions of our triumphs and treasures of our pains and tragedies, to overcome and continue to see our history written in the brows and wrinkles on the faces of our beloved seniors and not want to live standing as Black men and women, I will not bow in submission paying homage and offerings that you are not fitting of.
I choose to draw from the well of the history of the freedom fighters who came before me.
Those of us who are the benefactors of our pioneers are left to fight for those who come after us and not leave it in the hands of some who may have chosen to forget the intricate details for survivor.
Our cry for help, which emanates from the cradle to the grave, must not fall upon deaf ears, only to be cast down on unfertile ground.
Like unfinished masterpieces, we are waiting to be completed by the artists whose hands have been chosen by God to fulfill His purpose.
Our sojourn in this barren land has been comforted with sweet caressing sounds of, “I shall never leave nor forsake you.. and lo I shall be with you always”.
Driven like a mother’s instinct to answer to the cries of her baby, we are called to answer, comfort and carry on to birth and rear our own to our full potential and not succumb to the likeness of trump or his infidels-including those in dark skin color.
“I love the Lord, he heard my cry And pitied every groan, long as I live And troubles rise, I hasten to his throne.”
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