JEKALYN CARR IS MY GIRL! Hardly twenty-four years old, Jekalyn is a Black gospel singer, whose voice exudes power; skill; resonance; and beauty beyond her tender years. Her singing style is similar to that of a well-seasoned veteran, such as the much acclaimed Shirley Caesar of the Black Gospel genre. Jekalyn also has the gift of sharing biblical excerpts and illustrations in her lyrics that have such a meaningful, that is, relevant connection to current life that transcends race or color or status. It is often said that life's great equalizer is that one is either in a storm... just coming out of a storm... or about to enter a storm --- c'est la vie!
I inadvertently became aware of Jekalyn Carr when I was scanning radio channels as I drove home from the supermarket. I heard a voice that I shall never forget as the lyrics of "Changing Your Story" both touched and soothed my soul at the right time, at the right place. My tears betrayed my innermost emotions, for I was given newfound hope in a "give-up moment."
Although the radio announcer did not give the name of the artist, I had the lyrics of the song "on repeat" in my mind. As soon as I arrived home, I researched "Changing Your Story" and was led to my girl --- JEKALYN CARR! Not only is she a talented young lady; she is also a beautiful young lady with a wonderful story. I was impressed to find that she spent her earliest years in West Memphis, Arkansas, where we often do not hear of great things. Jekalyn was homeschooled, and her parents and others noticed and nurtured her amazing gift of singing and performing in the gospel music venue. A major point that I took note of in one of Jekalyn's interviews is how Jekalyn lavishes praise and appreciation upon her parents for their love, care, and guidance. THIS IS HUGE! For this is contrary to societal evidence of how many children are being groomed to defy and disrespect parental authority.
Jekalyn presents herself as a modest young woman of self-respect and decency. Many girls and women bend to the worldly trends that dictate unbecoming displays of flesh and flash in hopes of convincing others that they have the "it" factor, which is essentially NOT IT! "It" essentially serves as a means of further demonstrating drastically demeaning behaviors and immorality. Social media and music often promote ubiquitous competition as females openly challenge one another to see who can "outsex" the other. Sadly, no one wins in these situations. This reflects how the culture is no longer gracious but is increasingly vicious toward itself. Jekalyn alludes to ensuring that she keeps a circle of accountability around her as she navigates to walk uprightly in her purity as she honors not only her Creator but also herself. What an amazing mentor she is!
One will find a fair balance of men and women in Jekalyn's audiences. Her lyrical messages are for all. Hers are messages of determination; hope; faith; encouragement; and empowerment. She promotes the spirit of overcoming, as opposed to the spirit of survival, which connotes that one is living --- but living beneath one's potential. All of this is countercultural, in that the culture encourages especially the Black community to walk in the spirit of victimhood; to stay angry and rage against the masses; to destroy; to blame; to avenge; etc. This zeitgeist is catastrophic and destructive for those of the Black community who are hypnotized and drawn away by such sirens of deception.
Through my research, I was not surprised to find that Jekalyn is a powerful motivational speaker, author, and songwriter; an entrepreneur; an actress. She is a winner of a GMA Dove Award as an independent recording artist, as well as a GRAMMY Award nominee. I suspect that she is just warming up, for I can imagine greater feats for her as she continues with her passionate voice of praise, inspiration, and promotion of others' potential.
My initial encounter with Jekalyn Carr was through her music. I can listen to her music at any given moment and still feel the overwhelming draw that I experienced when I heard her voice for the first time. Some of my favorite hits of hers include: "Changing Your Story," "Jehovah Jireh," "You're Bigger," and "You Will Win." Jekalyn digs deep as she sings. She urges with the deepest passion as her melodic message flows forth. She demonstrates how we must dig deep to focus on the positive and forego the negative --- no one is immune from the ebbs of life --- and push to tap into and put on display the positive potential that we have been equipped with. Jekalyn Carr's music is the siren that should draw and inspire us all to do and be better than the lowest common denominator of a condescending society's destructive expectations and prescriptions for the Black community.
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JEKALYN CARR
JEKALYN CARR IS MY GIRL! Hardly twenty-four years old, Jekalyn is a Black gospel singer, whose voice exudes power; skill; resonance; and beauty beyond her tender years. Her singing style is similar to that of a well-seasoned veteran, such as the much acclaimed Shirley Caesar of the Black Gospel genre. Jekalyn also has the gift of sharing biblical excerpts and illustrations in her lyrics that have such a meaningful, that is, relevant connection to current life situations that transcend race or color or status. It is often said that life's great equalizer is that one is either in a storm... just coming out of a storm... or about to enter a storm --- c'est la vie!
By C.J. London5 years ago in Motivation
Lost but Trying
There are moments in life when everything feels lost—not dramatically, not loudly, but quietly. The kind of loss that settles into your bones and makes even simple breathing feel heavy. For Adam, that moment came on an ordinary Tuesday morning when he realized he had nowhere left to go. At twenty-seven, Adam wasn’t supposed to feel this tired. He wasn’t supposed to feel like life had already passed him by. Yet there he was, sitting on the edge of a narrow bed in a rented room, staring at peeling paint on the wall, wondering how everything had gone so wrong. He had once been full of plans. Big ones. Dreams of building something meaningful, of becoming someone his younger self would be proud of. But life, as it often does, had other ideas. Adam grew up in a small town where hope was common but opportunities were rare. His father worked long hours, his mother carried silent strength, and everyone believed that education would be the escape route. Adam believed it too. He studied hard, stayed out of trouble, and dreamed even harder. But dreams don’t always come with instructions. After college, rejection letters became his daily routine. Job interviews led to polite smiles and empty promises. “We’ll get back to you,” they said. Most never did. Slowly, confidence turned into doubt. Doubt turned into fear. And fear became a constant companion. When his father fell ill, Adam returned home. Medical bills piled up. Savings vanished. Dreams were postponed, then quietly buried. After his father’s death, the house felt too empty, too loud in its silence. Adam left again, this time not chasing dreams, but running from memories. The city welcomed him with indifference. He worked temporary jobs—delivery rider, warehouse helper, night security guard. None lasted long. Each job paid just enough to survive, never enough to grow. Failure followed him like a shadow, whispering reminders of what he hadn’t become. One night, after being laid off yet again, Adam walked aimlessly through the city streets. Neon lights blurred into streaks of color. Laughter spilled out of cafés he couldn’t afford. He felt invisible, like a background character in everyone else’s success story. That night, he considered giving up. Not dramatically. Not with a note or tears. Just a quiet decision to stop trying. To accept that some people were meant to struggle forever. He sat on a bench near a bus stop, head in his hands, when an old man sat beside him. “You look like someone who’s lost,” the man said gently. Adam didn’t reply. The old man continued, “Being lost isn’t the problem. Staying lost is.” Adam finally looked up. The man’s face was lined with age, but his eyes carried a calm confidence, the kind earned through survival. “I’ve tried,” Adam said bitterly. “Nothing works.” The man smiled softly. “Trying doesn’t guarantee success. It guarantees growth.” Adam wanted to argue, but something in the man’s voice stopped him. “I failed more times than I can count,” the old man added. “But each failure taught me something. Most people quit right before life changes.” The bus arrived. The old man stood up. “Don’t stop trying,” he said. “Even slow steps are steps forward.” Then he was gone. Adam sat there long after the bus left. For the first time in months, something shifted inside him—not hope exactly, but curiosity. What if stopping wasn’t the answer? What if trying, even imperfectly, still mattered? The next day, Adam did something small. He updated his resume. It wasn’t impressive, but it was honest. He applied for jobs he felt un for. He watched free online courses at night. He started writing—short thoughts, reflections, anything that helped him release the weight inside. Days turned into weeks. Rejections continued, but so did effort. One evening, Adam posted a short piece of writing online. He didn’t expect much. But comments came in. Strangers resonated with his words. Someone said, “This feels like my life.” Another wrote, “Thank you for putting my feelings into words.” For the first time, Adam felt seen. He kept writing. Months later, he landed a small content job—not glamorous, not permanent—but real. It paid little, but it paid consistently. More importantly, it gave him purpose. Life didn’t magically improve overnight. Problems didn’t disappear. Some days were still heavy. But Adam noticed something new: he no longer felt stuck. Trying had changed him. He learned that progress isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself. It arrives quietly, disguised as persistence. He learned that being lost doesn’t mean being broken. Sometimes it simply means you’re between versions of yourself. Years later, Adam would look back on that bench, that night, and that stranger. He would realize that the turning point wasn’t a job or success—it was a decision. A decision to keep trying, even when trying hurt. Because sometimes, the bravest thing you can do isn’t winning. It’s not quitting.
By Inayat khan4 days ago in Motivation
The Path to Salvation
The late autumn evening air filled the monk's lungs, but it wasn't the season that chilled his bones. The heavy-handed presence of evil he had sensed upon entering the woods surrounding this mountain village had not bothered to conceal itself from him.
By Made in DNAa day ago in Fiction
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