As I compose my last Pinnacle blog, I’m feeling rather poetic. My goal is to craft a Pinnacle poem; we’ll see. In anticipation, I’d like to share one of my favorites from when I was a child titled “Hey Black Child” by Useni Eugene Perkins.

Hey Black Child
Do you know who you are
Who you really are
Do you know you can be
What you want to be
If you try to be
What you can be.

Hey Black Child
Do you know where you are going
Where you're really going
Do you know you can learn
What you want to learn
If you try to learn
What you can learn.

Hey Black Child
Do you know you are strong
I mean really strong
Do you know you can do
What you want to do
If you try to do
What you can do.

Hey Black Child
Be what you can be
Learn what you must learn
Do what you can do
And tomorrow your nation
Will be what you want to be.

Growing up in Los Angeles, CA among the palm trees, sunshine, beaches, and shimmering cement, I had no sense of limitations. There were conflicting messages for sure: on one hand, I could be anything that I wanted to be, yet on the other, there would be struggles (systems) that challenged my view of self and culture. Nonetheless, as I experienced the world firsthand, the realization that there was a more important aspect of consciousness than knowing who I am emerged. Knowing whose I am grounded my entire being and how I would interact with the world. Whose am I? I am a child of the King.

Because I have lived my life in the awareness of whose I am by going to diverse places from previous experiences, being willing to be uncomfortable for Jesus’ sake, and expecting to be challenged in order that I might grow spiritually while guiding spiritual growth in others, serving at Pinnacle has been a profound blessing. Pinnacle people are special. You sense it when you walk the campus. There is a genuineness in serving God that you might not expect given the location, demographic, and denomination. The reason for the sincere worship is that Pinnacle knows whose it is. That is why, when I leave, I will not worry about the folks at Pinnacle. Truly, I will miss you, but worry? Not a bit.

The farewell I leave behind
Can be picked up when a tear needs to be shed
Your moistened faces I see as evidence
That God blessed our lives.

The farewell I leave behind
Let it be a reminder of how God brings us through
The challenges, the grumblings, the fatigue
To a place we forgot existed.

The farewell I leave behind
May not be as difficult as first believed
When we say goodbye to one we say yes to another
An open heart is where God reigns.