Hi friends. I’m still here. And there is a lot I’ve been wanting to say. Especially to the Christians. Especially about how social justice should be a natural extension of serving Christ. Especially about how loving our neighbor should take priority over political preference. Recently though, I’ve been doing a lot more listening and a lot less talking. While I think bold, prophetic voices who will proclaim truth are needed (and I refuse to be someone afraid to say hard things) it has been important for me to be slow to speak and quick to listen. Now, what I don’t want to do is be complicit in all the wrong by keeping silent. But what I also don’t want to do is just add to all the noise, noise, noise going on right now. It’s a delicate balance. But I’m still here. And I’ve spent a lot of time thinking.
I’ve been thinking about the little house guest in our home. He is cute y’all. His happy brown eyes and deep dimples are the most joy inducing things I’ve seen in awhile. Strangers stop and notice him. And I hear a lot of “Oh he’s the sweetest thing.”
And I wonder what the magic age is when a black boy stops being the sweetest thing and starts being intimidating. I wonder this for him and I wonder this for my own son. How old will they be when society stops looking with adoration and starts being afraid?
I spend hours on the phone with the warrior mother of the toddler we tuck in at night. She is college educated and hardworking and has never had to get clean because she’s never been not sober. She is the opposite of the assumptions we make about homelessness. She calls at night and bares her soul in words. You would think her being homeless is the scariest thing about her life. But her biggest fear is not homelessness. No. She knows she will work her way out of that. She is afraid of what will happen to her son when he is no longer a child. That is something she can’t escape. A home won’t allow her to escape it. A career won’t allow her to escape it. Her son growing up to be respectful, to work hard, make eye contact and obey the laws won’t change it. Some day someone will decide he’s not safe because he is large in stature and dark in skin. They just will. My own husband is living proof of this.
And I’ve been thinking about how many people, in the climate we are in today, would clutch their purses or look suspiciously at Jesus Christ himself if he walked in the flesh with his brown Israeli skin and dark eyes in the United States today.
I have no point to make. I have no solution to offer. I just wanted to say that I’m still here. And I’ve spent a lot of time thinking.