From the Desk of The DBeazy One-Man-Think-Tank

During pensive moments, often, the overwhelming urge arises to try to glance at the scoreboard. An ineffectual act to be sure, yet I think it is part of the DNA that makes up my DNA. From one day to the next, I wonder about the score, and more importantly, consider the clock, knowing fully that the clock is ticking. I recall as a child, my grandmother, though she denied interest, watched “Days of Our Lives” on TV. Even as a boy, I was disturbed by the opening scene with the large hourglass and the announcer repeating the mantra, “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.”

The need to gauge the score I guess is the innate makeup of man. Upon further thought, however, the real question might be, “Who is the opponent?”

It takes me winding through my thoughts and almost always a jaunt down memory lane to get to a certain point before realizing that a point exists. I start gathering it all up, assembling the puzzle pieces towards that final picture that ties it all up into a package, complete with a tidy little bow. I turned an old friend on to my site and weeks later I ran into her. She said, “I love your blog. I understand some of it.” I’m not so arrogant that I think that a day will come when my words are discussed amongst learned literary circles, but it isn’t an unpleasant thought.

It is my belief that in the late hours when things are finally dark and still, a brief span of time exists where we can find the “truth” in a man. In those moments just before the involuntary twitches begin, and wake gives way to slumber, I believe a man is at his most “honest” self. This is the time for “real” in a man and it is only the most astute of our acquaintances who recognize this truth in us. These are the thoughts that if openly shared, we fear would make us less than men, yet, it is my belief that men and women alike have this trait in common.

Without fear, I share the reoccurring theme which goes like this. I often drift off with thoughts of why and how I got to where I am. How did I get this far from the direction in which I began? Is the will that I have, so distant from the will and direction that God had planned for me? Then with efforts to correct that path, I tell myself that I must remind myself not to forget. In other words, “DBeazy, get your head out of your ass. There are people out there who have rougher paths, bigger hills, and steeper mountains ahead than you will ever experience.”

So, I implore you; remind me not to forget. That is all I need. If I remember not to forget, I forget about my own insignificant trials and look at Kash Man, for example. His name is Kash William Holiday. But to old DBeazy, he will forever be Kash Man. I learned about Kash Man several months ago when I heard that a young couple was expecting a son who was developing in the womb with significant medical issues. I learned of a young mother who, in spite of knowing that a baby was on the way, continued her education and at the time of my first knowledge of her, was awaiting the results of her Licensed Practical Nursing board exam. I’m yet to personally meet this young mother, or this young father, for that matter, or Kash Man’s brothers Jackson and Ace. What I know of this family is second hand, but I know that Mom is a survivor and possesses a “never quit” attitude. I imagine that this young mother may have secretly asked, “Why me?” I would have. I suspect that she privately walked the tightrope between faith and hope while preparing for the worst of potentialities. I mean this is only human, right? But very human private thoughts are just that, private and human. I cannot speak to the truth of any of that, but what I can say is that this young lady bravely smoothed her brow, shook off the sign of worry, and faced every day, striving to care for herself, her unborn child, all-the-while, being the best mother, partner, and co-worker possible.  I know that Dad is a “stand up” guy. A man who faces his responsibility with zeal and gusto, to be the father that Kash Man will need, and to be a positive role model for Jackson and Ace, as he is not their biological dad. I know that Jackson is a baseball player and a motorcycle fanatic and that Ace is a force unto himself, to be reckoned with and loves Legos.

Immediately upon learning of this family, I knew that I would be a little out of my element, given the fact that I’m a dad to daughters, yet, I felt a special connection. I felt that somehow, a lesson of redemption is carried on the backs of this family if only I watch and witness them as they face the challenges that have been laid before them.

This child. This beautiful, miracle shines a spotlight on the seemingly millions of things that have to go correctly in order for a being to move from conception to the grand entrance into this plane. The entire thing is a sobering exercise that leads one to wonder how it is that any child is successfully born.

Kash Man is a mere 2 weeks old, yet has raised the eyebrows of many who have years of experience, years of education, and maybe even some who needed to be taught about the recreance of preconceived notions. Kash Man is teaching of the power of collective prayer, with probably over 1000 people who have lifted this child, and I, I have given this child to God, even though he isn’t mine to give. I’m telling it because the night before labor was to be induced, I lost sleep. I found myself waking through the night and I found myself praying for this mother, this father, and for this unborn child. The kid haunted me throughout the night, and I felt the need to intercede in prayer on behalf of this family.

I don’t want to give the impression that I believe myself to have some direct line to the Holy Spirit. No, it is not that at all. In fact, though I believe in the promises of God, I’ll have to admit that sometimes I feel that depending upon my prayers is akin to going to the goat’s house for wool. With that being said though, I believe that God is in the business of answering prayers and though I can’t quote scripture and verse to the topic, I know that the Bible speaks of intercessory prayer and that God hears even mine.

I tried to put myself in their position. I remembered the outright terror that I felt, just minutes before my eldest was born. Likewise, ten and a half years later, though more mature and more experienced in the knowledge of children, that same almost paralyzing fear hit me in the hours before my second daughter made her appearance. In both instances, my prayer team consisted of me and my mother, but while she walked this planet, she was a mighty prayer warrior.

Kash Man and his family are teaching me to remember not to forget that though my times are sometimes difficult, my days are often long, my fear is great, and my worries are many, my plight is minimal compared to that of others. He has reminded me not to forget that life is a battle for most and born in all is that will to survive, that innate fight for life. Every time I look at the picture of Kash Man grasping his father’s finger, man, I don’t care how many times, how many ways I see an image like this, well, this, fellow travelers, this is where the proverbial rubber meets the road. It has been said of war, that there are no atheists in foxholes.  I lose few arguments, and I’d say that anyone who looks at an image of an infant, fighting to live, grasping the finger of an adult, and claiming to be a non-believer is not only dishonest to the world but is committing the greater sin of being dishonest to himself.

So I see these images of Kash Man. I see the early shots of a child, fresh from the battle of delivery, then in separation from his mother to fight to live, on his own for the first time. Kash Man is beginning a fight that every living human being begins, only Kash Man is beginning his fight as an underdog. Gamblers love an underdog, and as a gambler myself, I’m no different. I made a bet on the Kash Man early on, looking for the big payoff, and looking at the progress after just 2 weeks, man, I’m gonna win. I’m gonna win because God knew Kash Man when he was in the womb and I believe Kash Man to be chosen to be a light in the darkness and I cannot wait to see it manifested through him.

So Kash Man, you just keep reminding me not to forget. Right now, you have no idea of the lives that you have already touched. I think of the lives that you will positively impact in the future and the blessing that you will be to those around you. As I remember not to forget, I continue to pray for you, your brothers, and your family. I eagerly await my chance to meet you personally. And most, most, most of all, when the days come that I will struggle to fill the empty.  Days when I realize the painful reality of it all, when all around, the missed chances reverberate, when I need the words to write something meaningful, I will remember not to forget the lessons you taught.  Then and only then, I will be able to gather the will and the strength to take a step, to write a word, and express my point.

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