From My Mouth to God's Ear

Generations I'm not sure when it happened; Somewhere between the spinning rims and the designer clothing labels, the garden tubs and the bling-bling. We forgot. We forgot from whence we came. We forgot our heritage, our traditions. We lost our generational link, our way. Lest we forget that one generation ago, there were no mega-churches with crystal chandeliers and cushioned seats. Instead, we worshipped in sanctuaries of hardwood floors, with splintered seats to match. Instead of folks gathering on Sunday morning to espy what the other folks are wearing (or driving), folks gathered in masses in the name of the Lord --civil leaders, ministers, and politicians alike --planning the next move. Trying to overcome. Music was not perfectly metered and performed from eight different choirs at five different worship services. Hymns were raised, feet were stomped, and fans were waved in feeble attempts to stay cool amid summer heat. Integration was a mere concept, spoken of by eloquent leaders, dreamed of by one beleaguered race, dreaded by another. Just one generation … just one generation ago. And what if we look further? Two generations ago, things were different still. There were no super centers or 24-hour grocery stores. Grocers were your neighbors on the corner that added purchased items to your bill, 'cause they know you were good for the money. We walked to school. We walked to the library. We walked to the juke joint when we felt like dancing past midnight on Saturday nights. We lived a separate life, A life deeply rooted with love and laugher, unity and pride. It didn't matter much that our circle wasn't enclosed by the larger circle. We had each other. So when our water fountains were marked especially for us and our accommodations on cross-country trips were parked cards in the other hotels' parking lots, We endured. Our faith comforted and reminded us that change would soon come. Just two generations ago --just two. And dare we look further in the past? Back to when our parents worked as janitors and homemakers, maids, and cooks --the very jobs we snub today --just to make things meet? Back to when it was an honor to be a teacher, not a profession you ran from in pursuit of glamour and riches? Further back still, we travel down the blood-stained roads paved by our ancestors. Back to when our spirits, much like our ankles, were shackled and oppressed. Back to when we were slaves. But look at us now! No longer bound to fields. No longer bond to produce crops. No longer drinking from “Colored Only” water fountains or sitting in at lunch counters. Yes, we now ride in front of the bus. But somewhere between changing seats, we also changed our spirit --the very virtues that brought us through these generations. The unity, the strength, the struggle seemingly has been lost. Can we get it back? Can we really afford not to? A new history started yesterday, a new generation started today. And if we don't Rediscover our spirit, Rediscover our unity, strength, and struggle, Lord only knows what future generations will say about us.