What's Going On
Please consider this post as a prelude to me keepin' it real...
Years ago when Christopher was just months old, my husband and I walked in and walked out of a church that wasn't for us. When we pulled up in the parking lot late, there was not a soul in sight. I said, "This is a white church." My husband asked, "How do you know?" I said, "Because we are the only ones who are late." We went in anyway.
That moment when hundreds of eyes move but no one makes a sound.
Received by the ushers we were shown to some seats. Not seeing any other black people, I tensed. It was so quiet that I was afraid if Christopher let out one little sound, the whole congregation would turn around. "Let's go", one of us said, and we left.
There was still activity in the parking lot of a church down the street, so we said we'd visit there the next week.
We did go the following week, and again we only sat there for a few minutes. It was different. They were playing what sounded like Rock Christian music. People were jumping up and down like they were at a concert, but praising God. I didn't know what to make of it.
When they broke into fellowship and everyone walked all around shaking hands and hugging, I was ready to leave. I'm not a church hugger. We left. The experience left me tense but not shaken.
That moment when something is so beautiful you can't hold back your emotions.
After a few more church visits, we went back to the hugging, christian rock singing church. Something about it felt right. This time when I relaxed into the environment and took it all in, I held back tears for nearly the entire service. I was overwhelmed by the diversity; something I had never seen anywhere else.
For a couple hours a week, I can feel like we are all on one accord.
Hot tears filled my eyes at the conclusion of this week's episode of Empire. Empire isn't the kind of show you cry about. I blinked the tears away and said, "Oh Kenya."
"But I'm mad", I thought. The script from this show wasn't written last week in order to keep up with current events.
It's keeping up with the times.
That moment if you would just vent your frustrations in writing.
I AM angry.
I'm not angry with you.
I am angry at what has happened, what's still happening, what has not changed, and what I've experienced.
I'm angry about the times.
Sometimes I want to share a story about my experiences without worrying about how it will be received.
As I replied to someone recently,
I don't want to clam up here for fear of becoming a stranger to myself.
I must write.
I hope you'll receive it, and understand my intentions.