I Refuse to Sing the Blues

I don't have a song for you today
All I feel is black and blue
Only pain and sorrow came this way

I don't have a song for you
I don't even know my name
All I hear are minor chords
All I feel is somber tunes
But I --

I refuse to sing the blues

I refuse to write another song about the troubles of my day
I refuse to vent, so maybe I'll just scat my blues away
It'll give me the words to say...

I refuse to be angry
I will turn my day around
I will sing until my withered soul arises from the ground

Not inspired. I'm just tired.

And I don't have a song for you
But I found a song me
And it's come to set me free

I refuse to sing the blues

Comments

A Call to Slowdown

On March 30, 2017, I wrote a caption under a picture I posted of me preaching my very first public sermon in James Chapel at Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York. The sermon was entitled, “I Have an Issue of Blood.” To my surprise, at the end of my moment of sermonic exploration – what was originally supposed to be a spoken word piece but quickly grew into something beyond my wildest imagination – I got a standing ovation. It was… odd . I thought to myself, “Why are these people standing and clapping for me? I’m not a preacher.” Folks came up to me after to convey their appreciation for the message. Someone in the congregation shared a picture they took of me. I posted it on Instagram and Facebook the next day with the caption: “I sometimes feel like there's a person running ahead of me—the person that God is calling me to be—and I'm running behind her trying to catch up as she runs faster and faster. And I don't know where's she's going but I know i...

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake At the time of my writing this, I am sitting in my big chair, staring at my front window from inside the house, looking at the drippings that have stained the glass from the eggs that some neighborhood kids hurled at my window almost two weeks ago. They were mad at me (I suppose) because they came to steal another package off my front porch in December, but they did not know that it was a package I’d planted with a note inside. I had them on camera stealing several packages on my block during the winter break, including one of mine that contained dog food (I know they were disappointed when they opened that one up ha!). Instead of calling the police or posting their faces on the many neighborhood apps, I decided to take an old amazon box, place a note inside, retape it and leave it on the porch. The note read: “God loves you. I care about you. Stop stealing packages. -Pastor Mac.” I wanted these 3 kids who look like the...

Exhausting Possibilities: A Sermon by Rev. Mia M. McClain

2 Kings 4:1-7 Delivered on August 15, 2021 at Myers Park Baptist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina I am a child of Grey’s Anatomy. No, not the human anatomy book by Henry Gray; the hit medical television drama. It’s safe to say that because of my obsession with the show, I am who am I, today. Between Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away With Murder, writer and producer Shonda Rhimes was basically my 3rd parent. In Grey’s Anatomy, so many life lessons were taught and learned. I saw so much of myself in the various groundbreaking characters she made room for on primetime television, and Shonda’s theologies and ideologies are on clear display in many of the landmark scenes. One scene, in particular, has had a lasting effect on me. In the 2nd episode of season 2, a trauma patient comes in who the paramedics have been working on for almost a half hour with no improvement in his condition. The paramedic tells the Chief Resident, Dr. Miranda Bailey, that the patient is prac...

God and Wine

Search This Blog