Keion Henderson - Tested by a Tree

God told me to talk about «test it by trees, test it by trees.» You may be seated in the presence of the Lord. I’m telling you right now, I feel glory on my life. Has anybody been paying attention to Olympic sports, specifically track and field, lately? By the way, shout out to Coco yesterday for winning the U.S. Open, and another shout out to Colorado football for just shocking the world. Have you been paying attention? God is doing something through sports. Have you ever seen a U.S. champion break down, and you hear, «To God be the glory?» Something’s happening, because God doesn’t always preach in pulpits; sometimes He preaches on tennis courts and football fields. There’s another place that He’s been preaching: on the track. Have you heard of Sha’Carri Richardson? For those of you who don’t know—because some of you don’t care about sports—Sha’Carri Richardson right now is the fastest woman and she is a Black woman in the world. I knew you would clap because that’s who she is. But let me tell you where she was because most people love to praise God for the destination but they have no patience for the journey. Sha’Carri’s mother all but abandoned her; she gave her up. She was raised by her grandmother. She didn’t even know that her biological mother had died until after a race when a reporter took a microphone, put it in her face, and asked her what her response was to her mother’s death. She found out that her mother died from a reporter. Can you imagine the abandonment issues that must live within the heart of a young woman who didn’t even have anybody in her family who thought enough to tell her? Not one person called her to say, «Your mother has died.» Now I’m speaking from experience because even though you may have a parent who wasn’t in your life, once they gave you life, they can’t cease to have life without affecting yours. My biological father didn’t raise me, but the moment he died, the wind came out of my sails because there is no way to be connected to a tree and your leaves don’t shake when the winds blow. She finds out that her mother died from a complete stranger, devoid of any compassion. How do you feel about your mama dying, and that’s how she found out? So what does she do? She goes and smokes some weed to escape the pain of what was going on. Now I don’t judge it, because some of you don’t really need a reason to smoke yours. I mean, come here, look at your boy—holla at your boy. She did it because her mama died; you did it because it’s tomorrow. And just because you got it with a prescription—listen, she struggled and turned to trees, smoked weed, and was on a bender from practicing and racing in Olympic competition for an entire month. We just shouted about the fact that she was the fastest woman in the world, but what we don’t know or what we are not talking about is that when she tested positive for smoking weed and was banned from competition, probably by someone who uses weed medicinally—which is why I’ll go on record to say that something needs to happen in our criminal justice system when we have men in prison for 20 and 30 years for marijuana, and the judge smokes it too. I don’t mind being quoted on that. This girl is prohibited from running for a month, and when she comes back, Sha’Carri comes back in her first race after the month’s suspension, and she comes in dead last. Oh, we are clapping for her right now, but let me tell you how you were acting on the internet. I can’t stand two-faced people—she is an embarrassment to the race, and we were talking about her. Now, all of a sudden, everybody’s applauding. She was canceled by Black people and disrespected by everybody else, and when they put that microphone in her face after she lost that race, that girl said some of the most powerful words I’ve ever heard. She said, and I quote in her post-race interview, «I wanted to be able to come and perform. Having a month off, I’m not upset at myself. This is one race. I’m not done, and you know what I’m capable of.» And if I don’t preach nothing else, can I get about 300 people in this room and 5,000 of you online to look at somebody and say these words: «I’m not done yet; you know what I’m capable of.» Or you better look at somebody and say, «I’m not done yet, and you don’t even know what I really can do. You haven’t seen me at my best yet; you haven’t seen me play my best game. You haven’t seen me at my strongest moment.» I’ve been through a little bit of depression lately; I’ve been going through some stuff. I haven’t been as strong as I used to be; I don’t even believe in myself. But I feel something happening on the inside of me, and if I ever find that groove again—slap that girl and say, «Stella is about to get her groove back.» If I ever find my slot again, if I ever find that thing again, I’m not done, and I can do better. Just slap somebody and say, «I’m not done.» You better tell them because they think you’re done. They think that because they saw you cry, they can come in and take over. They think that because they saw you fail, that you are finished. But it was one race; it was one moment.