The run. Something about running just makes me feel as if I am flying. In the wind. The strength is in my legs as they hit the  pavement. A freedom I always wanted but never was able to know.

So I run.

I am having my moment with God as always. I am thankful. My last few days have been so awesome.

I been dancing non stop. I love the freedom of dancing. It’s better than running. My grandmother and aunt sat talking to me just last week expounding tales of my father’s dancing days. He would dance until he busted suits. He would move when the music began and wouldn’t stop until it ended.

That’s me.

So here I am thankful. I am thankful that just yesterday I am able to dance. I am taken back to Boston with the music of my extended family. The people who opened doors to me feed me when I was hungry. My Jamaican friend whose mother owned Paradise and would bring me steak, plantain, boiled banana, rice and peas on our lunch break. Yum. I began to look at the world through very different eyes. The Caribbean people whose festivals I celebrated like I was from exotic lands of loving people.

They left their imprint on me.

My first friend in the city her family was from Montserrat. A small country where everyone knew each other so they embraced me like family. I loved them the same way.

I thought I was coming to help her. I wasn’t prepared for the ways she would be a blessing to me. How easy I was to forget she had been a lifesaver to me in my moments of darkness when she did me wrong. But it was her family that loved me in ways I never knew. It was her who showed me that education could open doors to me I had never known before in her viewpoints and perspectives of Ivy League life.

I digress.

I felt like I was home. Never having been to the Caribbean just finding all the cultures in one in Boston.

The only thing I was missing last night was a beef patty with coco bread and cheese from Lenny’s on Blue Hill Avenue.

I will be making it to Carnival this year!

So here I am running and thanking God for all the blessings He has been pouring onto me and I see a truck with the parking sticker from my church in it. I see the coach. I see the track team.
I instantly think to two Sundays ago when Pastor talked about blessing a track coach. I said is this the group you blessed Lord?
The Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth began to do to me what He does every time He tells me something is the truth when I ask Him.
I have had so many people doubt the fact that I hear Him clearly that I have begun to doubt myself. So I said Lord I am going to ask this man.

The feeling is steady washing over me in waves. I feel it I am so overwhelmed by His presence that I have to take a pause for a praise break. I lift up my hands and give Him glory. Then I walk up to the coach.

“Hey. Are you the coach Pastor blessed two Sundays ago? And is this the track team.”

See Pastor called for everyone in the church to come and bless this man not knowing he was not going to be able to continue the program for the youth in our disenfranchised and gentrified area. The money was no longer available for them. But God!!!!

“Yes. He said. That’s us. And we have a free summer program for youths 7-18. If you know of anyone let them know. This is one of the places we practice.”

I see a young girl running. Her brightly colored pink shoes caught my attention but her skills were the truth. I felt God again.

I gave her some words and a smile.

See God knows that some of the children that need this program are the same children that need to be off the streets to not be the next victim of a stray bullet in our violent city.

He made a way.

I see Pastor heard God too.

I almost broke down crying thanking God for his goodness. His mercy. His loving kindness. His forgiveness.

I been forgetting about the people and the goodness at my table recollecting on the pain of the past.

I now understand it was what was necessary to create in me a strength most will never know.

I walked away from the park thanking God for my parents. But in losing both of them I have no one else to want to make proud besides Him. My Abba. My Father. My God in heaven who always hears me.

There are some places He needs me to be and things to show me. So I pray that I continue to listen when He speaks and not let ANYONE tell me who I am to Him. How can man define me when they aren’t the ones who designed me?

Yep. Its just like that. You know its real when you are who you think you are. And as I let a man who asked me if I was Muslim because of my head wrap. An eastern star? No sir, the word of God says the only religion that is acceptable to God is the one that looks after orphans and widows in distress.

So who am I? Why a child of the Most High. Thank you Lord. Its only through His eyes that I see a clearer picture of myself.

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