If you’ve been following me over on Instagram, you may already know that I am in the middle of a fundraising campaign to help send me to the Searock Sessions Cohort. Rather than me writing about the cohort, I filmed a video for you. Take a look.

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One Big Thing

Noise. 

It continues to be a barrier to equity and justice. 

I remember watching the run-up to the verdict of Derek Chauvin, the former Minneapolis police officer who murdered George Floyd, and thought how can so many have so much commentary on what we don’t yet know. The verdict hadn’t been read. No one knew anything. It was all speculation. 

I felt anxious. I didn’t know what would come of this verdict. I worried for the country. I worried for the city. My city. The future. 

Once the verdict was read, the media, social media, pundits, all descended back into noise. Analyzing how the verdict was reached. What this may mean politically. Each channel had its own spin. 

And so, just like last year, when George Floyd was murdered, I wanted to cut through the noise and hear from black folks on how they were feeling. What I found was that the beautiful tapestry of who we are was being reflected in the responses I got. Varied. The same. The differences. 

This follow-up to The Black People Speak is poignant and rooted in lived experiences from those who lent their voice. Take a listen to the people’s words. The Black People Respond episode from the Altitude Collective can be found anywhere you listen to podcasts. 

Listen to the episode here

What I Am Reading

1. I just began reading Ben Montgomery’s - A Shot In The Moonlight

Oddly, I have been looking at pictures of me living life in 2019. Yeah, 2019. You’d think I’d do more of a deep dive into all things 2020. However, I found myself this week, for the very first time, lamenting the loss of normal. Lamenting moments, activities, things that I have not thought about in over a year. Going through my pictures, I saw where I preached services in Chicago, attended conferences in Houston, went to malls, walked the sidewalks of my city, and wandered into the newest hotspots that just opened. (Ok, maybe hotspots is a word I shouldn’t use these days haha…see what I mean!) In 2019, I wasn’t vegetarian and would chow down on Simone’s (my wife's) homemade fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I had no facial hair. Oddly, I couldn’t grow any (what in the covid is going on now). If we wanted to jump in the car and drive up to Orlando to go to Disney, it was a quick decision with no arrangements needed, no mask-wearing, no checking the website for protocols, etc. We attended the So You Think You Can Dance tour here in St. Pete. We settled into our seats at the Straz for a Dear Evan Hansen. We had people over to the house, all the time, without thinking through their whereabouts prior and if they had been safe. Cruises. I had become the Executive Pastor at my church with big dreams of overhauling our staff culture and setting our church community on a path to deeper spirituality and relationship with Jesus.

That was 2019. And I miss that.

2020

The pandemic year shifted everything. And you’ve probably heard me talk about this before, but it really was the busiest year for me in ministry and community advocacy. And so I don’t think I gave myself much time to miss the former things. My focus was on my family, church, city, and making sure I did my part to keep people safe and whatever it took to move us out of this mess.

What I lament most is maybe not maximizing appreciating what I had. I dunno.

As I do now. As I reminisce. As I contemplate. As I look back, I am using what I miss about 2019 to propel me to seek smarter, more depth of living in 2021. It’s like 2020 didn’t fully count in terms of LIVING. And I want to reclaim my time.

Am I even making sense? Look, my point is, as we continue to move into the next new normal post-pandemic (ish), there will be lots of conversations, data, arguments, analysts about what we could have done better or not done at all. It will cause us to move to our political and ideological corners for sure. But in an uncommon way, let’s take hold of our own evaluations — navigating for ourselves down the path of remembrance to establish a baseline of who we were, who we are now, and who we would like to be in the future.

We’ve all changed. We have. Let’s not be passive about that. Let’s be uncommonly intentional about exploring what that means. Because when we do, what bubbles up to the surface for you and me, literally changes our city, our world - we’ve changed together. It would be a tragedy to minimize and/or not acknowledge that fact. We will be less than if we do.

Two Books I’m Reading

1. I’m still reading Barack Obama’s A Promised Land (It’s a large book)

2. I’ve started reading Tyler Staton’s Searching For Enough

I’m Watching

1. The Black Church on PBS

2. Amend: The Fight For America on Netflix

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1. I’m reading Barack Obama’s A Promised Land.

2. I can’t get Common’s Courageous out of my head.

1 Uncommon Thing

January feels like the longest month ever and the shortest to me. Like me, you may have felt the anxiety of trying to find that new 2021 rhythm. You may have felt the anxiousness of embodying a new year within that new you. You may have felt the uneasiness of shedding 2020 and looking ahead to the new year. No? Just me? 

One of my most common refrains this month has been, I can't seem to find my pacing. My schedule has been off -- not overwhelming per se but not flowing either. My sleep has fluctuated between restful nights and nights where I couldn't shut my brain off. Not to mention, Simone and I traveled to Portland, OR, this month to celebrate her 30th birthday. Jet lag is real and hasn't helped!

There was so much I had planned on doing this month. So much I wanted to debut and share. I just never got there. What I found was the last two weeks of December where things were winding down, meetings were being postponed for the holidays, everyone taking breaks -- it all led to a tsunami of January kickoff meetings to help everyone get back in the swing of things. I hadn't done a good job anticipating that. 

So what do you do when it just hasn't gone the way you planned it? What do you do when you can't catch up? What do you do when you've lost control of the calendar?

You shrug your shoulders. You evaluate. You dust it all off. And you try once more. 

One thing that is difficult for my personality type is to say I just need to start over and try again. I struggle with perfectionism. I struggle with how you see me. I struggle with ...well, I have a lot of struggles. So it is challenging for me to make space to give myself grace. It's hard to say, "you couldn't control those external circumstances". My inner me says in retort, "You should have anticipated them." (I'm certainly not the only one who talks to himself, right?) However, during this final week of January. I am saying to myself, "You may not have won January, but you had some excellent moments"!

This month, I was sworn in as one of the nine members of the St. Petersburg Charter Review Commission. I led a successful Senior Leader (COVID-safe) retreat. Planned and executed a five day west coast trip for my bride that included hikes, sightseeing, rest, and visiting with friends. I read a lot. Listened to new music. And I had some phenomenal conversations with friends. I'm sure the list could go on, but even as I typed that out, I began to feel encouraged. No longer beat up by what didn't happen. 

So here's to you and I shrugging off whatever goals we didn't achieve and pressing on and setting our sights on what is ahead of us. Let's do so with a spirit of grace for ourselves. We aren't perfect, and we don't have to try to live that way either. 

1 Exclusive Thing

As a subscriber, I will always share exciting news with you first!

This February, I am finally launching Uncommon City. On my first trip out west last October, I really felt God drop into me several ideas related to the word “uncommon”. As I have worked with a brand agency out of Seattle called Zion Bloom, this idea has germinated into a full fledge grouping of projects, state of being and more.

I'm all about thinking and doing things uncommonly. Over years of ministry, business, communications, and civic roles, I have seen the devastating consequences of being similar; being average; being the same. It all leads to the same kind of results — results that perpetuate problems and do not fix them. I've been at tables and in meetings where the same people who have had seats and invitations before come back only to share the same ideas they shared last year. Or the year before. Even maybe a decade earlier. 

I've always been bullish on going against the flow of the tide. I'm creative. Slow to speak. A processor of words. Intentional activator of space, place, and people. You see, the thing that sets me apart from the common are the things that drive me. Loving people in uncommon ways. Listening to lived experiences and finding uncommon intersections where we can agree and forge relationships. Making room for the most unlikely, the most uncommon person to have a voice and a place of influence. Seeing the world as it can be and not as it is. These are maxims that make me different.

Out of this new branding, I plan on releasing a new exclusive patreon only podcast, writings — including a new book called “How To Grow A Beard During A Pandemic”, and more. You’re hearing about it first. Stay tuned to my instagram for more updates.

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