When I’m feeling nervous, bored, tired…pretty much when I’m feeling any feeling at all, I reach for my mobile phone and hop on Facebook. It literally doesn’t matter the time of day or where I am…isn’t it funny how I never feel so compelled to pick up my bible with such frequency and such urgency?
I have been hesitant to comment on Ferguson, MI and the Michael Brown shooting because I’m still sorting out my feelings, but when a black, affluent Facebook friend of mine posted this ….I felt compelled to comment
You don’t think black people have anything to do with the perception America has of us as a people that encourages us to get gunned down in the streets, Yet you post:
Hood videos from world star hip hop
Ratchet random hood fights & arguments
Niggas in line fighting over Jordan’s
Unsigned hood rap artists doing drugs and free styling in video
Bullshit challenges like black people setting themselves on fire
Half naked pictures of our black women
More about love & hip hop than CNN
You #turnup in the club but you don’t:
Turn up to work on time
Turn up to vote
Turn up to class and graduate
My friend has some fair points. Blacks don’t do much to help public perception. Stereotypes of the baby mamma, deadbeat dad, reckless and rowdy teen are stereotypes for a reason. We need to turn up to work, to our kids lives, turn on to world events and local civic affairs…
But it doesn’t take away the fact that we live in a country with a deeply entrenched and pervasive hatred/ fear/ prejudice of people of color.
Yes, we need to do better, but this country also owes us better.
On my 29th birthday, I was in total awe of how my friends and family rallied around to make my day ultra special. But under that awe…that sense of immense gratitude was a feeling of unworthiness…why me? Why would people so lavish me with love and gifts and attention and favor? I didn’t deserve it…I kept thinking, I’m not as great as everyone thinks I am…I’m mean sometimes, weak sometimes…ugly sometimes.
Even my hubby’s love, so deep and overflowing that it scares me sometimes… how could I ever be deserving of such elaborate love? How could I ever repay him for his kindness?
Then a voice that seems both close and distance whispers to me, “Because you are my beloved.” God, who knew me before anyone else and who knows me more deeply than anyone else loves me. Lavishes me with good things. Comforts me when I am scared. Needs nothing from me, but my acceptance of his love. Isn’t it funny that we are always hoping to earn the one thing that is absolutely priceless, absolutely free.
I then realized that I could spend my whole life trying to earn favor, earn love. I could search the world, ravish the depths of my heart, for some shred of worthiness, but there is none to be found outside of God’s grace. If not for Christ, I would not know what it means to be a friend, to love my neighbor, to open my heart to love and receive love in return. All of my goodness, all of my worthiness, all of my loveliness was and is because of the loveliness of God. I don’t need to be anything more to deserve it and my momentary failings could never steal it away.
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me, I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Few things shatter our illusion of power than seeing the words delayed flight flash on the screen.
Form a line at the counter.
Tell whoever can hear us that we must get on the next flight out.
As the line snakes around the terminal, some of us grab our phones.
All of us feel a tightness, the air in the place is growing thin.
We must get on the very next flight out.
Some of us do, but most of us relent.
Find a seat beside the window and let someone else determine our fate.
I made a friend at the pool today – a golden haired eight year old whose name was Hannah. She asked me if I liked to swim and whether I had on enough sunscreen. She agreed to be the referee as my friend and I raced from one end of the pool to the other.
Here we are, in a remote lake resort in Indiana and this beautiful girl doesn’t care that I am black. She wants to make sure I am ok. That I won’t drown. That my skin will be free of burn. I love children. Their innocence and their unquestioning acceptance. I felt 100% human today.