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Short Stories To Read On One Accord |
Take a Spiritual Walk With Me,
Please. One day while contemplating
an upcoming workshop with young women, I became convicted. My usual
recourse is to try to change our youths’ behavior by convincing them that we
are descendants of kings and queens. For those of you who don't know,
our children are on a path of dogs. Our young men call each other dawg and call
the women bitches.
They bark at each other and their heroes have names like Snoop Dogg (named
because he looks like Snoopy) and Lil' Bow Wow. I was becoming more and
more alarmed because this is not just a passing fad. From my best
guess, we as a people have been on this path at least since 1983 when
the original funkmeister, George Clinton, sang “bow wow wow yippy yo yippy
yay!” on his explosive album, "Atomic Dog," which topped the
R&B music charts. That was over 20 years ago and we are still
progressing down the dog-dom trail. What troubled me about this is that I'm
working from a school of thought that revolves around three concepts.
The first two are pretty easy for anyone to understand. The third
concept, while pretty uncommon, if given enough thought can be easily
understood and proven on both spiritual and scientific levels. First,
whatever a person thinks of themselves, that is what he/she will become
because they behave in a way to create a self-fulfilling prophecy. (Proverbs
23:7) Secondly, the words coming out of your mouth direct your
path. In other words, your words determine your destiny. So, my
feelings are apparent, our people will ultimately behave like dogs if we keep
calling each other doggy names. The third premise, the new school of
thought, dictates that as people, we remember on a cellular level those
things that happened to our forefathers. In other words, our blood, skin,
flesh and even bone has memory. Not only does our DNA carry
physiological instruction from generation to generation but other things are
also transmitted, things that our brains don't recollect. For example,
mannerisms, alcoholism, emotions, etc. There are all sorts of
scientific and biblical data to back up this statement. This
third concept is what I’d hoped to tap into to change the hearts of our
children and let me add that this concept has been somewhat successful.
But this particular night God stepped in and called me to His spiritual
journey. As I was preparing my “script” that night, the Holy Ghost
convinced me to search for those kings and queens that I continuously speak
about. I have been teaching that we, black people, are the descendants
of kings and queens and yet I had nothing tangible - no names, ideas or
faces. We all know that Nefertiti and Cleopatra were African queens
but Egypt clearly distinguishes itself from black Africa and that
somehow did not set well in my spirit because its too complicated
to connect those dots to a group of teenagers who continue to bark at
each other. I wanted to convince our children to stop giving “what is
holy to dogs or toss your pearls before pigs.” Jesus said that at
Matthew 7:6. So.
I began my research on the Internet. After all, I’m an internet
expert. I can research in a few minutes what would take hours in an
actual library. I’m just smart like that, okay? That way
when I appeared at my workshop the next day, I'd have a nice airtight
argument that we are kings and queens. I pictured myself posing
this majestic question, "If we were of a royal bloodline when
we were put in chains, at what point did we cease to be royalty and take
the bloodline of dog-dome?" I was going to follow my normal
recourse and help our youths to tap into that cellular memory, grab that
royal blood line with a two-fisted kind of loving-kindness and juss
gone and be great anyhow. I believed that I’d quickly connect those
dots and draw that picture to join us, former slaves, with African royalty --
and I don’t mean the biblical royal priesthood noted at 1 Peter 2:9 in the
Bible. Some of our children would be disqualified from that chosen race. After a few hours of constant
searching, when I still had nothing to support my royal-flesh theory, I
started getting desperate. I searched and searched. I found lots of
interesting things but I found nothing linking a royal bloodline to the
formerly enslaved descendants of Africans in the Finally
about 3:00 am, with tears in my eyes, I backed away from the computer empty
handed. I was brought first to my knees and then flat on my face.
It was one of those times when we are called to pray. I said “Lord,
this is the story that has been passed down from generation to
generation. If we are the real flesh and blood descendants of royalty I
want to know now. If we are not the physical descendants of royal blood
I’m asking You to show me now, here, tonight. If this story is a myth,
I want to know and I won’t spread the word any further. I’ll be
satisfied with being a 1 Peter 2:9 royal priesthood. I
laid there suspended in a timeless prayer closet, just me and God. I
laid there and found my peace. I asked God to forgive me for many
things but most of all I repented because I realized that I had hung
my hat on being of a royal bloodline from Finally,
around daybreak, I rose from the floor well rested even though I had not
slept. I stepped over to the computer keyboard and who knows what I
typed into the search engine but you will never guess what rolled up on my
screen. You will never never never guess what was revealed in that
continuous flow of information . . . My chin must have hit the desk
because I could not believe what turned up on that screen . . . Immediately,
many things were cleared up for me, things that I had wondered since early
childhood. . . All of the entries said the same thing so I just picked
one and clicked on it . . . It said, “The Kingdom of Bow Wow”.
The Like
in a vision I was moved back in time as I began to read a soldier’s account
of a 16th century war. The young soldier, whose name I don’t
recall, eloquently wrote an extremely logistic explanation of the exploits of
war. His letter was pretty lengthy and yet interesting. After a
short while his military prose took on a different air and he began to tell
about how he, as a young boy, was abducted from his homeland and brought on a
long voyage to a life of enslavement. Sometime during his training and
adventures as a soldier this man learned to read and write. He became a
“gentleman of letters”. He wrote of his boyhood home, The Kingdom of
Bow Wow. That kingdom was a majestic kingdom of kings and queens.
From his description I understood that each household had a king and a queen
and that there were certain things that every king and queen needed to
know. This As I
read about the As a
small child I understood that cows moo, cats meow, but dogs do not
bow-wow. I distinctly remember questioning that notion as a
pre-schooler. As the foulness of this vision struck my consciousness I
began to weep audibly and tears stung my eyes and streamed down my
cheeks. I choked out an agonizing “Why?” I wanted to know why
this horrible thing happen, why did we survive and finally I asked God why he
let that wonderful name “Bow Wow” become the synonym for a dog’s
language. Then God told me, “I let that happen because I knew that one
day, 300 years later, you’d search for your ancestors and I wanted you to
have a place to hang your hat.” When
I stood up from that journey, I was unexplainably different. I felt
that God had done something special for me. He gave me, alone, answers
that I didn’t know how to digest. I walked away from that virtual world
and went on to my seminar. I taught from my soul for those two
days. At the end of the workshop when it was time for the students to
identify what they’d learned, one Caucasian girl jumped to her feet and
demanded to go first. I was surprised because she’d only spoken when
absolutely necessary during the two days. She loudly declared, “I
learned that I’m a queen! When I came in here yesterday, I was an
atheist and now I wanna’ see ‘bout gettin’ some o’ those promises that God’s
people get!” Look how the world gets
blessed when we get blessed. That’s what it means for your cup to
“runneth over”. Others get sustenance in your overflow. That
was a freebee. What’s really important here is that the spirit of Bow
Wow is about our royal birthright not doggie-hood. Satan is good at
taking what is good and perverting it until it’s unrecognizable. During
that class it became real apparent that our children remember Bow Wow on a
cellular level. Let’s not pervert it but carry our birthright with the
excellence of God. The
evening after the first day, I raced home to read more about the |
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A Continuation of the Spiritual Walk One
day while feeling quite angry and sorry for myself, my telephone rung and a
gentleman introducing himself as Thomas Brown was on the other end. Mr. Brown explained to me that he was
looking for his ancestors (genealogically) and had a clue that his 6th great
grandfather’s name was Jeffrey Brace.
He asked me if that name sounded familiar and I told him it did, but
that I couldn’t remember where I heard it. That’s when he threw the bomb at me. . . Mr. Brace, formerly named
Boyrereau Brince, wrote memoirs about his 18th century (things were starting
to sound familiar to me) . . . homeland . . . the I dropped the phone and ran around the house screaming. I came back to the phone screaming
repeatedly, “how did you find me?!”
Mr. Brown said he saw my article at MyrnaRoberts.com and was grateful
that I too was searching for his 6th great grandfather. Mr. Thomas advised me that there was
controversy between two Caucasian people who were both publishing Mr. Brace’s
memoirs. The lady, in an effort to
publish her version before the gentleman, put her article on the Internet. I found her article during a very brief
period of time that it was on the web.
A subsequent legal battle ensued.
The man won and the woman took her book off the web. I have not read this book and I understand that this gentleman’s book is
quite different from the lady’s that I read on the Internet late one
night. Excerpts of Brace’s memoirs can
be found at http://docsouth.unc.edu/neh/brinch/ill1.html. My information came from the lady’s book
and apparently her information about the By Myrna Roberts |
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