Posts Tagged ‘#blacklivesmatter’

Almost two years ago we moved to our current home, a townhouse.

It was a bit of an adjustment, moving from a single family home, on acreage, to a townhouse on a busy road. The lack of privacy, the noise from the road, the sounds of people’s voices as they walk by, when the windows are opened, the absence of the sound of the coyotes calls in the quiet of the night.

Now, I quite love our home. I love how every square foot is so well utilized, I love my more modern kitchen, the spacious shower in the master bath, how perfectly our basement family room is for watching movies, how close we are to everything we could need.

Our home is lovely to us … just like our neighbors. They moved into their townhouse a year after us. Like ours, theirs is an end unit. Like us, they have made it their own … painted walls, planted flowers … it is a shelter from the elements, a place of refuge. Their home is like ours in so many ways, except that our homes are reversed … basically theirs is the mirror image of ours … exactly the same features and value, just opposite.

If I was cooking dinner and saw smoke coming from my side window, I would stop what I was doing. I would run outside to see where the smoke was coming from. If, when I got outside, I saw flames coming from my neighbor’s home, I would call 911, I would bang on their door to make sure they were not in the house, I would scream “fire” to alert other neighbors.

I would not be occupied about what color to paint my bathroom, or if I should replace the carpet on the stairs with carpet or wood, nor would I stop to change the lightbulb on the outdoor light fixture. Because, in that moment, if my neighbor’s house was on fire, their home would need the attention.

So, moral of the story …

Yes, ALL lives matter, in that they all have equal, God-given value, but when a specific group is at risk, well that’s where our attention should be.



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No words.

Just sadness.

No response.

Just heaviness.

No answers.

Just … lament.

God, I know you are there, I know that you are faithful and true and trustworthy.

I know that you have been with all of humanity since before time began. That you are in us, that you have shaped us and molded us in the inmost place. I know that when you look on all that you have created, you say, with parental pride, “it is good” … every one of us.

But I ache.

For humanity does not treat each other as good, with grace. Your creation has demeaned, devalued and degraded some in society, to the point of death.

I … I am called fair, for my skin is pale, but those who are called this fair … have not been. We have been anything but fair. What can I say or do to help those who have been subjugated by the fair … like me.

Like Moses in Egypt, like Tubman in her Underground Railroad, like King in DC, the heart cry of “Set My People Free” … free from discrimination, free from threat of harm, free from the looks, free to do and to have as the fair people do … has interrupted our our lives. The volume of the protesters could not speak as loudly to our hearts as the whisper,

I can’t breathe

God, those words, that scene … it destroyed a part of us all … red and yellow, black and white … (Jesus loves the little children of the world).

Can I still sing those words? Not that you love the children, but naming four (inexact) colors? God, I don’t know the rules … I don’t know the words to say, I don’t know how to be the support and hands and feet of you and I just want to say,

I am with you.
I am so sorry for the hatred.
I am so sorry for the pain and struggle and fear that you live with,

simply because those of us who are fair … are anything but.

This week has been significant, Lord. The white elephant in the room of humanity has been seen. People have raised their voices, told their stories, demanded change from leaders, from … the fair who are not. Social media has been full of #BlackOutTuesday, #blacklivesmatter, lists of organizations and businesses to support (or to avoid), lists of how those of us who are fair might help, support … be fair.

But, some of it, Lord, is contradictory. One person posts this, another posts the opposite. One posts the blacked out screen, another says #BlackLivesMatter matters more.

God, I want to be the help, the change the arm around the shoulders of others. I want the people who I love, who are not as ‘fair’ as me, to know that I weep with them, that I don’t see their color so much as the life within them (is that okay to say?) and …

I hope they don’t see mine.

For, God, the fair have not been.

O Lord my God, I cried out to You,
and you healed me our world. 
Psalm 30:2

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