The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread. I met Jaja when he was just a kid about 13 years old. This first meeting with his mother, my sister and me turned from a converstaion about strong black women raising sons into a discourse about the importance of black male presence in a young boys life. Far wiser than his years, Jaja, which means Gift of God, was at the center of the conversation. His apologetic proposition was filled with compassion as if from a well seasoned debator. As a mother of two young sons he captured my attention and I left that evening resolved that if my sons ever lost their father, it was still my responsibility to make sure they had that strong black male presence in their lives. I have this young man to thank for a piece of God’s wisdom through the voice of a child who could see what I at that time could not see. Thank you God for that one moment you allowed our paths to cross. On June 8, 2015 at the age of 35, Jaja took his own life.
I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness
I am the voice of one crying out
I am the voice of one
I am the voice
This is really where it all begins, with the I AM desiring to be made known with the gentleness of a still small voice helping to clear the way. Yet not until we reach the path through the wilderness do we even acknowledge the cry. Gracious God help us to hear the voice of the I AM, and upon hearing – even in those paths of wilderness, we may respond according to your will.