Broken

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It’s been a rough week. I have not felt well physically, but that’s okay, I will be fine. 


Today I am thinking of another family in pain, mourning the loss of their son, their father, their friend. His name was Daunte Wright. I was naive enough to think maybe lessons had finally been learned. 


I hoped.


I still hope. . . though there remain parts of me, and parts of people who look like me, that are broken. I’m not sure we’ll ever be completely fixed, but we can still choose to share the beauty of our Creator. God help us.


Am I scared for my son, for my brothers, for the black men in my life? 


I am.


I’ll tell you what. Not one of us should be subjected to any more of this trauma. However, through this trauma, through this ugliness, through this struggle, I believe God will work through me and you, to change the narrative. It’s hard to know what to do right? Well, speak up. Do not remain silent. Each one can teach one.


See, and help others see that God made every one of us in His image. Help others see God loves every single one of us the same. 


Learn how to value every life the way God does, then show others how to do the same.


It starts with me. It starts with you.


I do believe through so many tragedies many of us see or experience, there are still breathtaking, awesome possibilities because of the God we serve. I still believe God is working. Sometimes it’s hard to see, but I know He is.


I am hurt, but I refuse to live hurt. 


“What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” -‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:9-11‬ ‬‬

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