Deep Hurts... Thoughts on Charlottesville
It's been hard for me to write these past few weeks. I've been able to crank out that which is due for the sites that have expectations of me... but for this space, I feel like I am all out of words.
We've had some personal family sadness that I am not going to write about publicly.
The protests in Charlottesville have left me speechless.
There's a line in Patty Griffin's, "Rain" that says:
"Sometimes a hurt is so deep, deep, deep... you think that you're gonna drown. Sometimes all I can do is weep, weep, weep... with all this rain pourin' down."
This line has been constantly playing in my mind. Sometimes all you can actually do is weep. Sometimes you really feel like you're drowning in grief. There are no actual words to soften the blow and no actual activities that can numb the pain. The hurt is just too deep... it would take an excavator to get it out. And, even then, you'd be left with a massive hole.
I've been increasingly disheartened as watch my alleged brothers and sisters in Christ respond to the overt acts of racism in our nation. I am not at all surprised that there is racism, no. I AM surprised at the response of some Christians to not call it racism. But to rather deflect and call our other groups. As if, somehow, that forgives the white supremacists misusing the name of Christ to carry out their racist agenda.
I am surprised that the supremacists had no problems protesting in bare face. The hoods of the past are no longer necessary... they have no fear of returning to their jobs, their families, their churches. No reprimands or church discipline will happen. They are likely deacons, Sunday school teachers, the kid who mows lawns or the "nice young man" who is a crossing guard.
The devaluing of humans is heartbreaking. Since the protests, it's taken everything in me not to lose my mind anytime one of my children is hateful or abusive to another. I want to stop this now. At home. We will not be a people who devalues other people. We will not fancy ourselves better than others. We aren't special or favored because of the color of our skin, the country in which we happened to be born, or the amount of money we make. Our choices on schooling, how we eat, the books we read, or the activities in which we participate do not elevate our status in society or in the eyes of God in any way. I need them to know this.
So, I am grieving. It's a deep hurt. And I am begging for Jesus to come back and make it right.
We've had some personal family sadness that I am not going to write about publicly.
The protests in Charlottesville have left me speechless.There's a line in Patty Griffin's, "Rain" that says:
"Sometimes a hurt is so deep, deep, deep... you think that you're gonna drown. Sometimes all I can do is weep, weep, weep... with all this rain pourin' down."
This line has been constantly playing in my mind. Sometimes all you can actually do is weep. Sometimes you really feel like you're drowning in grief. There are no actual words to soften the blow and no actual activities that can numb the pain. The hurt is just too deep... it would take an excavator to get it out. And, even then, you'd be left with a massive hole.
I've been increasingly disheartened as watch my alleged brothers and sisters in Christ respond to the overt acts of racism in our nation. I am not at all surprised that there is racism, no. I AM surprised at the response of some Christians to not call it racism. But to rather deflect and call our other groups. As if, somehow, that forgives the white supremacists misusing the name of Christ to carry out their racist agenda.
I am surprised that the supremacists had no problems protesting in bare face. The hoods of the past are no longer necessary... they have no fear of returning to their jobs, their families, their churches. No reprimands or church discipline will happen. They are likely deacons, Sunday school teachers, the kid who mows lawns or the "nice young man" who is a crossing guard.
The devaluing of humans is heartbreaking. Since the protests, it's taken everything in me not to lose my mind anytime one of my children is hateful or abusive to another. I want to stop this now. At home. We will not be a people who devalues other people. We will not fancy ourselves better than others. We aren't special or favored because of the color of our skin, the country in which we happened to be born, or the amount of money we make. Our choices on schooling, how we eat, the books we read, or the activities in which we participate do not elevate our status in society or in the eyes of God in any way. I need them to know this.
So, I am grieving. It's a deep hurt. And I am begging for Jesus to come back and make it right.
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