Dr. Charles W. Ferguson

The most difficult thing a person can do is reflect on moments that were not the best. It causes us to have to get honest about the reality of our strengths, weaknesses, failings, triumphs, and lessons. I have to admit that years ago my theology informed me that the best way to handle mental and emotional hurt was through diligence and suppression.

For years, the culture around never supported the idea of working through my emotional baggage and pain. “Fake it until you make it”. “You will always be leading while bleeding”. “Depression is a demon”. I learn over time that my life, behavior, struggles, and challenges were finally becoming way to big to handle alone. While waiting on God to rescue me from my pain with a touch, a word, or an instant moment, the weight increased. I couldn’t take anymore.

While I was living in Springfield, IL, I experienced so many changes in my life. I was serving in a church that had extreme potential. I was a new father and trying to grow as a husband. Yet, I was finding myself at moments feeling the walls closing in. I kept hearing people grumble about everything. I watched people criticize my wife for not being the “typical First Lady”. Every move I made was judged. My desire to serve God in a unique way was called trash.

I was in a complete funk. I was preaching through it. I was teaching through it. I gained a doctorate through it. However, I had no outlet. I had no one to trust outside of my wife. She was going through so much hurt and anger that I felt I couldn’t tell her I was dying inside. I was trying to reach out to anyone that would listen, but no one would hear me.

I became more and more isolated. Who wanted to hear my problems? Who wanted to be concerned with my feelings? It was a waste of time to tell people that cared about me that I was tired and hurting. All I heard in my head was, “you are going to be fine; you are being to dramatic; you don’t have enough faith.” I kept believing that the lies. I kept seeing the truth of others. I saw people who looked my family in the eye and said they would look out for me, run me down in public.

My wife was right, “Jesus died for the people you don’t have to.” Yet, I was ready to go because I felt like the worst type of failure. I wasn’t accomplishing the mission that God planted in me. I was not being a good husband. I tried to lean on others rather than my partner in life. I was not being a good father. I was not giving my all to CJ. I was giving leftovers.

My desire to make everyone come together caused me to deny my uniqueness, divinity, and purpose. I began to subject my surroundings to a false view of who I thought I was supposed to be. I was trying to be this stereotypical pastor. I was trying to hold on for dear life to maintain. I was dying.

One Tuesday afternoon at the dining room table, I sat at the head of the table with a pen and paper. I was hearing the thoughts in my head. “Now I got you. I didn’t get you at 14. I didn’t get you at 30. Oh, but you won’t get through this. You are going to lose it all anyway. You are better off dead.” So I began to write. I was going to tell Myrissa that I was sorry for how I failed as a man. I was going to tell her that I was better off to her in a box. I was going to tell CJ that I loved him enough to not be around as a broken man. I never wanted my son to ever see his hero with kryptonite.

Something in me really didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to die. However, I felt that it was the only option. The fight was on. My last ditch effort was calling anyone to convince me not to give up. I ran down my list of close brothers. It’s only a few. I just called until I ran out of options. I called. I left messages. Nobody was picking up. There I sat. Trying to figure out how to end everything without making a mess. I wanted to found at least peaceful. Then the phone rang….

Jonathan picked up the phone. He listened to the voicemail. He called. He didn’t give me a speech about me going to hell for the thoughts of suicide. He didn’t call me demon possessed for being depressed. My brother let me pour out my soul. I never got the opportunity to ever have a no judgment zone to pour out my anguish. In that moment, my world stopped and depression and suicide had to retreat.

When Myrissa came home and saw me on the side of the bed, I couldn’t form my words to tell her what transpired while she and the baby were away from me. She then saw the letter that I left on the table. She wept uncontrollably. She sat with me and made sure that I got the help I needed to reset. My pain became real. It was now at the forefront. Even though my life did not end that day, I did die.

For the first time in my life, I had to choose. Was I going to live for the first time ever, or would I continue to let the walls close in without a real chance for healing? It was time to live. It was time to change the structure of my existence. I needed to finally assess my circle. I needed to prioritize and finally live the abundant life God promised me. I could no longer subscribe to the theology of the anointed but rejecting help. I could no longer align myself with individuals that perceived weakness in confessing mental and emotional health challenges. It was time to have Jesus “spit on my eyes” and give me a second touch.

This defining moment is the reason why I have completely changed my approach to ministry and life. I can no longer engage in conversation with people that reduce God’s movement of healing and deliverance to one method. I cannot take people serious who have a theology that passes the issues of people to a hotline. I cannot embrace a thought pattern that is willing to crucify pastors, leaders, and parishioners in parking lots through gossip, yet attempt to absolve their willing role in the assassination of character and personality.

The game has changed. I am living in a way that I never have before. The moment I “got my life”, I finally was able to begin processing my emotions, my challenges, my baggage. I realize that I was living for too many entities and not for the people and God who loved me best. I have detached from people who have meant me nothing but harm. I have recognized the people that were good to me as long as the blessing train flowed. I saw the people that only cared enough to call or reach me when they needed me.

I know clearly more than ever that being known does not mean everyone cares. I no longer bleed in public. I recognize that this season of my life is to use my witness and story as an opportunity to tell others a few facts. God made you special for this time in life. You have a destiny and a purpose. Everyone can’t go with you. Everyone is not meant to embrace you.

However, you are the most important vessel to your world. If you are not well, you can’t help anyone. If you cannot experience grace that God offers, you will not witness healing that you may need. God is ready to deliver and give you life, but you can receive it from counseling, safe spaces,, and healthy outlets. You are necessary even when life tries to tell you otherwise.

Take it from me. I still cry thinking about how close I was to others who completed the work of ending their lives. I do not judge them. I understand all too well. I recognize the pressure. I believe that the burden was heavier than could be imagined. So, I share with you today this final thought. If you have any idea that anyone you love is struggling, don’t give them a number to call. Do not dismiss their pain as just an emotional response. Listen. Hear. Embrace. Love on them. You might be the conduit to a resurrection.

My Prayer

God help me to reach the one. God use me as a conduit to help others truly live. Help me to affirm the humanity of my brother and sister in joy and struggle. Help me see them for who they are and not what life attempts to tell them. God help me to share every element of your healing that you offer. Amen

A friend on my Facebook timeline put out a status that gave the estimated amount of time to perfect a craft. According to general acceptance, it takes 10,000 hours to perfect a craft. Being the nerd I am, I discovered that 10,000 hours breaks down to 416.67 days. Ladies and gentleman, that time is roughly 1.14 years. It takes a little over a year of dedication to perfect a craft. Now I don’t know how true that statistic is, but I am sure that it is measurement that we can use for a unique lesson.

Many people are living in the world today thinking about new ways to succeed and prosper. People are looking for the balance between home and work. Yet, others are attempting to find peace and calm in the midst of the constant white noise of life. The truth is that humanity has strayed away from the necessity of crafting a life of stability and focus.

The main reason for the lack of focus on balance is the constant information suggesting that one element of life is greater than the other. I believe that God teaches us to be in relationship with the Spirit and learn the necessary tools that will inform and direct our life journey specifically to us. The deeper issue is that we have not taken the time to perfect this craft.

We invest in the structures of various areas of our lives, but we do not take the time work toward a true synergy of our lives. I wanted to share a couple of things that are currently helping my own journey to a greater incorporation of life, living, and faith.

1. Focus on the relationship with God. It is a necessity to make time with the Creator. Most people think that there is never enough time. The truth is that many people place their energy and time toward the things that are most pressing to them. This statement is not about judgment. It is to state that the reality of our existence. Preoccupation with the outside can alter the focus of energy on prayer, meditation, reading Scripture, etc.
2. Live out the principles generated in your connection with God. There is nothing worse than an educated fool. We can gather information, but refuse to use it effectively in our lives.
3. Spend intentional time with my core. You must take intentional time to be a human being. Date your spouse. Enter the imagination of your child. Write that poem. Play that game. Speak to a counselor. Sip and paint. Travel to new places.  Do not neglect you for the sake of proving you are sacrificial. Take care of you so your sacrifice does not become unintentional martyrdom.
4. Breath life into your dreams. No dream truly dies unless the dreamer buries it. (Wow, that was seriously profound!) The only person that can kill a dream is the person that possesses the dream. Yes, doubters, haters, and detractors can be accessories to the murder. However, you and I have been given a great gift of resurrection if we use it. No matter what you have in your heart to do, give it your best shot. It is never too late to do great things.
5. Eat at the table prepared for you. The psalmist writes that the Lord prepares a table for the writer in the presence of his enemies. We have take this aspect of the 23rd Psalm to state that God blesses in spite of our enemies. You missed the point. Many people have shouted of the preparation of the table and who is watching rather than the purpose of table. God gives you provision at the table for you to eat. Don’t preoccupy yourself with who is watching to the point that you forget to eat. You will go hungry.

Take a moment to think about your journey. We are not all going in the same direction in life. Our purposes may be very different. However, take the time today to consider your path. Find the most effective way to maximize the journey. Reap the rewards of a new process.

This thought is dedicated to every individual that contributes to my current existence as a Black Man in America. This idea is dedicated to the “common man”, “theologian”, and the “intellectual” for we need all in the progression, freedom, equity, and justice. 

When I was a teenager, my first job was doing janitorial services for $100 a week. In the 1998-99 school year as a busy young man, it was easy to stack $100 cash while being an honor student, young preacher, and athlete. I barely had time for much outside of that and a girlfriend at the time. Working that job and using my mind ultimately afforded me the opportunity to get a scholarship to college, pay for my books, and have some fun like any other teenager. What I did not know at the time was that I was preparing myself for an inner conflict.

W.E.B. DuBois wrote a piece many years ago entitled The Talented Tenth. The concept was inspired to motivate Black young people to pursue education and excel in various areas of life such as politics, medicine, law, etc. The hope was that these individuals would return to their communities and influence change in society that would ultimately benefit the greater whole. This idea was always pitted against the approach of Booker T. Washington. The initial leader of Tuskgee created a strategy that focused more on agriculture and infrastructure.

The two educators that offered very different approaches to the growth and liberation of African American people in the late 19th and early 20th century, never witnessed in a real sense the manifestation of their theories. As a matter of fact, I am of the opinion that the separation of these ideas are seeds that have manifested in the midst of our current struggle in 2018.

In my lifetime, I have witnessed the intellectual being pitted against the “common man”. It has always proven to be an unnecessary conflict that has blossomed into opportunity to dismiss one over the other. We have people who have been blessed to obtain higher education that never came back to the community to enhance it. Rather they felt it necessary to move beyond the past into a brighter day for their future family. The success of the intellectual has somehow become an opportunity to lord a false sense of superiority. Ultimately, the feelings of “being brand new” permeate the fractured relationship.

The “common man” is known for being a hard working individual. They have a sense of pride in enhancing the environment and performing honest work. They have built the infrastructure that all people including intellectuals enjoy. Yet, moment come when the common man sees the intellectual as a lazy, imaginative person with high ideas and no sense of reality. Unless you have put your hands to something, you have not contributed to the overall process.

With some truth being seen from different perspectives, I am of the mind that we have forgotten how to use the best of our resources, gifts, and skills to bring about positive change and transformation. It is easy to stand an identify obvious issues that are before us. Yet, I wonder if we are able to be accountable for how far we have drifted from the foundation of unity that brought about the Civil Rights Movement, Voting Rights Act, Black Wall Street in Oklahoma, and various other entities that have proven our might and creativity in the midst of systems not built for us to win.

As Black people are attempting to navigate the nation under the administration of Trump, we are witnessing the division of an oppressed people in a magnitude not seen since the plantation. We have individuals who have decided to adopt every supremacist form of religion, politics, economic, and social ideology possible in order to be found in the among those who appear to control the meter. In order not to feel the pressure, pain, or suffering of oppression, the resolve is to give up integrity, uniqueness, and character not be seen as a threat.

On the other side of the equation, people are daily in the struggle to demonstrate their humanity among other people. The protests have made people uncomfortable. The constant emphasis on equity has brought out the most bigoted of ideas to the forefront. Individuals have shown more sympathy for a piece of cloth than the people who continue to face systematic oppression. The agitator is cursed for bring brokenness to the forefront. The sellout is praise for being a lapdog.

We must finally be resolved to stop feeding into the need for separation among ourselves and recognize the truth of our condition. Nobody can truly be free until we are all free. No one person can achieve liberation on his/her own. We cannot accomplish movement without listening and understanding one another. We will not experience power moves until we are locked arm and arm focused on one mission and goal.

Now, I don’t claim to know everything. I definitely do not know all the answers. What I do know is that it takes 100% of the community to liberate 100% of the people. We cannot make it through unless we repent of our internal foolishness, our apathy toward liberation, our selfishness toward our own individual preservation, and our denial of our God given uniqueness.

My petition to you is simple. Find the greatness again. Do not allow the known evil and pretentiousness of the narcissistic prevail over our ability to thrive. Don’t give room to the enemy to continue forge separation in the name of the status quo. We shall overcome together. But we will die alone if we stay separated.