Until recently, I’ve always stayed out of the political conversation.
I’ll educate myself, and stay silent.
I’m entering a season of figuring out what it looks like to put a voice to my internal processing.
This is my first attempt.
Chapter 1: Waking Up
Jacob is the first friend I can remember.
His mom and my mom were good friends.
I remember pillow fights and running around outside.
Cool Colorado summer nights.
(If you’ve never experienced them, they’re a slice of heaven).
I don’t ever remember seeing Jacob as any different than me.
That friendship was a gift and one that I think has shaped me in more ways than I could have imagined it would.
6th grade.
We had just moved to Arkansas, I’m sitting in class and for the first time, hear kids talk about blacks, I learn there is supposed to be a difference and am too insecure and too confused to ask questions.
High School.
One of my best friends begins dating someone black.
One of my best friends begins dating someone black.
I remember being so glad, that whatever that was about in 6th grade had ended.
Everyone had moved on.
College.
I’m a History Major; African American Studies are for the most part the only upper-level courses I take.
I became completely enamored by Black History in the United States.
I cannot consume enough information about it.
From the ports of West Africa to the Civil War and on into the 1950s.
I learn we aren’t out of the woods.
There is not a piece of American History more important to me then the story of the black community.
Partially, because it’s still unfolding and partially because I am wired in and out to desire restoration.
Y’all.
I literally cannot function when something is broken or won’t work.
I’ll obsess about it – be it a broken process at work, a tangled necklace, my computer, a toy of Harpers or a friends life in shambles.
I want things to work.
I want people fixed.
I want restoration like I need oxygen.
And right now, there is a brokenness in our country that has been brought to light.
This division has always been there, so many are just now waking up to it.
And I am both saddened by the ignorance and thankful for the revelation.
A wound won’t heal if you don’t acknowledge that it exists.
It will only continue to worsen.
And I hope that we all feel the weight of taking part in the process of cleaning it out.
Cleaning it out of our homes.
Cleaning it out of our churches.
Cleaning it out of our schools.
Cleaning it out of our communities.
And our nation as a whole.
A president will not fix this.
The people will.
This goes so much deeper than the right or the left for me.
Beyond politics
It’s about my relationship with Jesus – who stood by God at formation when He said He created man in His image.
Our value of life tied into that one statement.
The Creator of all speaking Himself into us.
Identifying His creation in His likeness.
“I have called you by name, you are Mine.”
All genders.
All races.
He is not color-blind.
He created color and each shade is a representation of His creativity and His beauty.
Make no mistake, if we have judged another by the color of their skin we have blasphemed the Word of God and denied the right that they are created in His image.
And if you are white, we have to recognize the privilege that currently exists in our country.
I think we often feel if we claim privilege as whites, that this is degrading.
The problem is not the claim.
The problem is that this privilege exists in the first place and it's our job to help break it down.
So that we are truly raising our children in a society where ALL are equal.
We cannot settle with being silent.
Our generation has a part to play in this story of restoration.
We are at a pivotal point in the narrative of our country.
And, I don’t think the argument of, "This is not our forever home, it’s hard here but we have so much to look forward to in the next world,” excuses us.
That does well to ease our anxiety.
But the other side of that sword is complacency.
Jesus was anything but that.
Right now, THIS is where we live.
And the testimony and legacy you live on this earth affects the next.
The Christian Community has raised their voices high for the unborn.
And I’m not saying this voice is wasted or unimportant.
But, I do wonder, have we been so focused on being a voice for them that we’ve lost sight of the voice that’s needed for the born right now?
I think that's for Chapter 2.
I think that's for Chapter 2.
