Wild Mustang: Lover of Soul and Inviter to the Dance

            Thank you for all the encouragement and support for my keynote at the Collin College Martin Luther King, Jr. Power Leadership Breakfast. I really appreciate all the comments you made on last week’s blog. It is so wonderful to know that I am not alone in whatever I do, even if I am standing on a stage by myself.   You are with me.             I reached a point before the talk where it was what it was.   I had put into all I could.   I was ready to let it rest.   I had a good energy around what I was going to say and began the process of working on how to deliver the talk. The last fifteen years when I preach, I write an outline then memorize the outline so I can preach without notes. This is dangerous because I’ve been known to forget what I was going to say and because I can go off script, which I often do. This is good because preaching without notes helps me to connect to the listener. I see the outline as a guideline. I will insert comments that come to me while I

The Talk: Struggle of Dance and Love             This Saturday I am the keynote speaker for the Collin College Power Leadership Breakfast.   When my friend Ada asked if she could submit my name, I was honored and said yes.   I was pretty sure I would not be chosen because I am a 59-year-old white guy.   I always imagined the speakers for these events as dynamic black speakers.   I was selected.   Perhaps my friend Ada made a good case. Or the committee heard of the work I have been doing in racism.   God certainly has a mischievous sense of humor.             My talk is to be 20-25 minutes.   I have struggled with what to say.   It is not that I don’t have enough to say.   I read books.   I listened to podcasts.   I had deep conversation with people around racism.   I have pages and pages of notes.   But people do not want to hear me report on what I have heard and read and seen. I am being asked to share out of who I am, out of my reflections on Dr. King, out of my own broken

The Call of the Ants A few months ago I was kidnapped by ants. (It was the first blog) They took me down into the depths They asked me to speak to my people Of the Earth’s deep pain My people are causing. I said yes, Not sure what I was agreeing to. I was told Ants would be my reminder. Whenever I see an ant, I am to remember my task. Lately I’ve seen no ants. I have forgotten my task. My people continue to cause great harm to the Earth. My people continue to cause great harm to each other And to the ants and other living beings. But I have been busy. There was Christmas and the New Year There was Thanksgiving and trips to parents. There were meetings and readings and many things to do. Surely the ants would understand. The invitation still stands. Busyness does not rescind Nor does avoidance. I must confess to the ants and all that lives in and on the Earth. It is not that I do not know what to say. It is that I am