I had read this story without his name–Aswad Ayinde was a “self-styled” music producer who seems to have held his family captive for years in a hell of his own making.
He raped and impregnated his own children. There are no words. There are simply no words.
Praying for his victims.
Church at our house is a makeshift, dramatic affair aimed towards the active under 6 set. Today my young son asked to do the story of Daniel and the Ghost.
At first this seemed extra-biblical until
I remembered that there is a decidedly ghostly hand in the story of the hand writing on the wall.
We told it and then re-enacted it with maximum drama, but it was also a quiet reminder–
God, and God alone will weigh our lives. Don’t be found wanting by the one person in the universe whose scales are always just.
He was a personal friend and mentor. He encouraged me to pursue God. For years I used him as an example of what a sold-out shepherd did.
A shepherd lays down his life for his sheep. A shepherd puts God first.
In my wilderness faith I have listened to Internet sermons. Recently I found my former pastor’s sermon archive. Good stuff. He is a smart guy–soaring passages of scripture combined with warm and honest anecdotes. Good stuff.
I probably should have left it there–my memories of him 20 years ago were foundational.
But I didn’t.
I emailed and told him I was encouraged by his sermons. Eventually I told him why I was in the wilderness.
Have not heard from him since. As soon as I said “sexual abuse” he was dead quiet. Not the first foundational Christian leader to quietly retreat as soon as I tell my story.
There is no room for sexual abuse survivors in the church. There is plenty of room for pedophiles.
Jesus is unequivocal about these things. Our “churches” should mirror heaven–the kingdom of children, entirely free of evil.
Instead we whitewash the citizens of hell, make them deacons, and banish the broken children they have left behind.
Now, I just stick to the gospels. Jesus never leaves me or my brokenhearted children.
I remember being shocked and outraged by the original story–an unsuspecting mama is accosted by a couple of African American teens and her baby is murdered .
When the story re-surfaced meme-style as a defense for racism and murder I left it alone. I thought–tragic, but the assailants were charged.
Then my fellow child advocate, Miranda Yonts posted very quiet updates on the story.
It seems that there are other suspects in the case–the baby’s parents. Both tested positive for gunshot residue.
When you go back to the original story something stands out–the original suspects were tagged based on truancy records. Mama says–two black teens and the system finds two black teens. They might be guilty of nothing more serious than skipping school.
Four suspects. A terrible story. Who do you believe?
You can do is
Be still and
Know that He is
Last night I spent some time researching masks. I am intrigued because the mask posted below does not match any I found–where did he get it?
And who buys these things?
They are all awful.
It is a quiet little neighborhood– close to the bay, an elementary school, a fire station. People felt safe there until the events of May 14th, 2013.
A local resident was brutally attacked sustaining significant injuries. Her assailant was wearing the mask pictured below.
When I first saw the mask I was afraid it was a dark and inappropriate joke. We are so accustomed to seeing the pixilated composite drawings of suspects–not the garish color of a menacing demon mask.
Do not be deceived. The mask is no joke. It is a powerful clue. Whoever attacked our friend and neighbor had been watching her, had planned his attack carefully, put a great deal of evil thinking into what he did.
I assume he is a man based on the strength and severity of the attack. I also assume that:
This mask is traceable.
He bought it somewhere.
Someone in our community can help solve this crime by providing
assistance into the origin of the mask.
Find the mask, find the man, stop the evil…before he can strike again.