James. Randy. Brian. Cedric. Jason. Quinton. These are the names of men I love. Men who are my father. My uncle. My cousins who are like brothers. My brother. Men whose blood and love runs through my veins. Men who are my family. Men who are black.
My daddy left this earth 11 years ago. The others have found a way to thrive here.
It’s hard to survive on this earth and it takes just about a pure genius to thrive here.
One day I hope to marry a black man and one day I just may have a black son. I haven’t even met them yet and I worry about the trauma and loss that can come with their blackness when it’s hard to survive on this earth.
The type of trauma and loss the families and friends of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile are walking through like a steel fog that refuses to lift.
It’s hard to survive on this earth. It’s hard to survive on this earth.
And it takes just about a pure genius to thrive here.
I want to believe the sheer weight of humanity means something today in 2016. I want to believe that we can be more intentional to preserve life. I want to believe.
The city of Dallas is rocked this morning by deep grief and inconsolable tragedy. Five police officers are dead and several more injured along with two civilians, ambushed by a shooter who “said he wanted to kill white people – especially white officers,” because he was upset about recent police shootings.
My mother spent nearly 30 years of her life serving as a civilian employee with the City of Atlanta’s Police Department. She assisted heads of police, loved and encouraged the officers and absorbed the losses of those killed in the line of duty as if they were our own family.
Black people, blue uniforms, we all have the common gift of hearts that beat and blood that moves through our bodies. Humanity ties us together.
But the loss of human life in these recent incidents feels insurmountable. Their heartbeats no longer beat and they were valuable. The people they beat inside of were valuable. People made in the image of God, with purpose. People woven into the story He’s written for this world.
Race is the conduit through which much pain and offense channels its way into our lives. This struggle is bigger than race. The very nature of our souls is the conversation topic on this table.
Souls that get blinded and lose heart. Souls that don’t detect and remember another person’s humanity. Souls that need rescue.
We all need rescue. God is the only one who can bring us out of this.
It’s hard to survive on this earth. It’s hard to survive on this earth.
And it takes just about a pure genius to thrive here.
In this difficult time in our nation, I invite you to mourn with those who mourn, with the families and friends left in the wake of these deaths. A heart-wrenching journey the loved ones of Christina Grimmie and the Pulse victims continue to walk through. An agonizing journey the loved ones of Lane Graves are experiencing because he was lost too.
Lament with sorrow for the overwhelming loss of life in these shootings. Life is a gift God gives us.
Lament with sorrow for the tension and pain existing between communities of color and law enforcement. Decades of distrust and injustices keep people on the offense on both sides.
Lament with sorrow for the hate and bitterness that led human beings to take the lives of other human beings.
Lament with sorrow that left to our own devices humanity has no hope in this world.
Turn your lament into thanksgiving that God is our hope. He works through the details in disasters to redeem, restore, and heal.
Keep praying.
It’s hard to survive on this earth. It’s hard to survive on this earth.
And it takes just about a pure genius to thrive here.
For my black brothers, I see you. Don’t lose heart even though you have every plausible reason to. I want things to be different for you. I want you to be safe. I want you to be safe.
For my black sisters, I feel you. We’re scared for the black men and boys in our lives and we’re tired of mourning the ones we lose. There’s a special fortitude in our DNA. Maybe God placed that in us for times such as these.
For my non-black friends who stay in this heaviness with us as if this grief were your own, thank you. Thank you for really viewing this through lenses that push you beyond your own experience and beckon you to enter the black narratives we’ve been writing about our story for hundreds of years. The narratives that yell in bitterness and sorrow, ” This IS what is happening to us! Do you see US?”
For my non-black friends who don’t understand what’s happening in your news feeds on social media and why many of your black friends are angry, choose to enter into this with us. Choose to be willing to understand. Read the news. And not just the news you know.
Think about your father, your uncle, your cousins, your brother. Make it personal to you and then you can see why it’s personal to us.
#AltonSterling #PhilandoCastile #DallasPoliceOfficers
We all do need rescuing. We need to remember that we didn’t pick our statistics coming to earth. That privilege isn’t a matter of color or race but of being loved, chosen, celebrated by God. Beautifully said.
Thank you Dayle. I often remember from our coaching times you reminding me of this, as a way for me to see myself in a beautiful new light. And sometimes as a kick in the pants to not limit myself. “That privilege isn’t a matter of color or race but of being loved, chosen, celebrated by God.” I remember you telling me how God decided the time in history we’d enter this world and the race and color we’d be. We all reflect His glory, His love. We all are valuable. The created can’t attribute value to other created ones. God sees us fully and beautifully as we are.