Despite the fact that Chance is slightly problematic (One lyric says something like “bitches sleep in my hat.” Like really? C’mon, son), I happen to love much of his second album? Mixtape? Concept art? Coloring Book. It is like a modern -day Book of Psalms to me, an open conversation with God that everybody gets to hear. Listening to the album, I can tell that to Chance, God is the Homie. Which I love. Because God is the Homie. To me.
Anyways, there are two tracks on the album that share the title “Blessings”. The second iteration shares lyrics from an old Fred Hammond song which asks the listener, “Are you ready for your blessings? Are you ready for your miracle?” I really dig this one track. I’ve been playing on indefinite repeat for weeks, testifying. “Yasssssss, Gawd! I’m readyyyyy! Open up them windows and dropped them BLESSIIIIIIINGS, Lord! Hallelujer!” I mean, I been on struggle life for quite some time now. So I figure I done paid my Job dues and am getting ready to be bles-sed.
God hurried up and smack me in the face with my lies. I’m not ready for my blessings. And lemme tell you something. You prolly not, either. And do you know why?
One word: RESPONSIBILITY.
I mean, I would love to have a Rolls Royce–but I have no garage, no money set aside for maintenance, no funds to pay that note and insurance, no time for the upkeep.
And that’s the rub. Blessings demand room for receipt. Blessings bring with them work. Blessings require responsibility.
And it isn’t just physical blessings, either. How can you receive a healing when you’re holding onto the things that harmed you? How can you receive wisdom when your mind is replete with foolishness? How can you receive a new loving relationship when you carry the old ones with you wherever you go?
Mindful moment: the catch is in the release. You must prepare for blessings. You must make room for miracles. You must empty your mind to take in new behaviors. You mist be ready to let go.
Jesus basically dropped this knowledge hellas ago: you can’t put new wine into old wine skins. I always thought (and rightfully so) that old wineskins would just break because they no longer had the elasticity to let new wine stretch or whatever. But it dawned on me today that well, maybe the old wine skin was just already full, and what’s the use of trying to stuff something new in there? It would just explode.
I’ve been trying to blow myself up, basically.
2017 is a year of new beginnings for me, of practicing all the stuff I said a long time ago in preparation for what is to come. Before now, I have simply been stockpiling information; now I am emptying my reserves to make room for new things and building new spaces to receive new things beside the still very relevant old things. I’m preparing for my blessings.