But add to that the crazy that is going on in America right now. How many young black men and woman have died for no apparent reason this year? And of course, we have watched it all because we are at home in our isolation and now we are sitting with our anger and grief and no sense of power to do anything to change any of it. Jacob Blake, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Rayshard Brooks, Ahmaud Arbery, and the list goes on. And this is only 2020. Maybe this doesn’t even phase some of you who are reading this. And I won’t judge you for that. But it affects me. I was married to a black man who taught me his own set of rules for staying safe if he got pulled over by the police. He knew that he had to be aware of his surroundings at all time. So when I see these painful crimes, I know not only the toll it takes on the victims, but on all others who happen to have the same color skin. Fear and rage and weariness are all added to the isolation.
And for me, I have to acknowledge that I have moments of hopelessness that the world will ever be the same again. Thankfully, they are only moments. I have a relationship with a God that I trust. A God who promises to never leave me or forsake me. A God who sees and listens and knows how I feel. This keeps the moments from turning into despair. I have come to understand how much I take for granted. My freedom to fly and to go where I want and to be with those I love and to hug anyone who wants a hug from me…all have become privileges, not rights. And I’m over it…but I don’t think it’s over.
Here is my greatest sorrow in the midst of all this. I was just getting it. I was just beginning to understand this call that God has given to those who believe in Him. I was just starting to find my place in the Great Commission, my place in this world. My self-focused, self-absorbed life was beginning to shift and I was beginning to see that “the Spirit of Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recover of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18) And now here I am. My heart needs another shift and I am beginning to ask God to show me how to continue the work here even though much of my heart is “there.”
I trust God. I do. But I also know that He is okay with me being honest with Him about how I feel. And this is it. I will pass through this river and I will end up on the other side, but for today I grieve. I’ve decided to allow myself to feel it deeply. I have decided to cry for the injustice and the sadness in this world. Tomorrow I will stand up and put my boots on and ask God what He has for me to do.