I’m a digger.

I like to dig holes.

When I was younger, I liked to dig myself in so deep that it looked like I was digging my own grave, finna bury myself alive.

In actuality, I was dwelling in what was merely a shallow grave.

I always popped back out to give you five.

But you pushed me down and started heaping your dirt upon my head.

That’s when I started taking digs at you.

Now that I’m older and wiser, I’m not digging myself quite so deep–just enough so that I might crawl on out from my hole and learn to walk righteously through the kingdom of my God’s grace.

Over the course of my life, digging for riches turned to digging for bones. Uncovering the remnants of ancestors past, led me to uncover the mysteries of souls whose tales had not been told. 

Today, I no longer pray to discover jewels and golds, but instead that each of us may unearth our beautiful, radiant God-given gifts and let them glisten above ground, for everyone under the sun to admire.