As I spent time on social media, I began to feel a weight of expectations for my own life to match the life I was seeing of others. The more I strived to have the life I was seeing on social media, the less content I became and I began to question everything about myself. Finally, my husband called me out and I decided to fast social media and take my discontentment to the Gospel. Within a few days, I quickly realized that the content I was seeing seemed so scripted. Where was the authenticity? The more I prayed through my struggles, I felt the challenge to, in fact, live more "scripted", which brought me back to this blog I had created months prior. Except the “scripted” life I desire is one that is less scripted for likes and followers and more rooted in the Scripture—the Gospel, so that what I share with the world reflects the hope I profess, the grace I’m dependent on, and the glory of the Lord. As I prayed, I realized I wasn't the only person out there who desired this authenticity. I desire for this blog to be a safe place where others can come, just as they are, for genuine connection. I don't have it all together and I am tired of trying to. There is beauty in the simple, yet purpose-filled life. Grab a cup of coffee and stay a while. I pray that the Lord uses the words He gives me to encourage and give you hope along your path.
Forgive them for they know not what they do. I’d like to think that I would have been one of the people who loved Jesus when he walked the Earth. However, when I think back on my past, it tells me that would have most likely not been true. In my past, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to love Jesus—I did. But, I didn’t know how to love Him, more specifically, I didn’t understand how He could and was going to love me with a dark past such as mine. Reailty is I’d probably have fallen somewhere between loving him in secret and yelling crucify him with the crowds. Knowing my personality, I would have said nothing about the injustice. I wouldn’t have spoken up for fear of what someone would think. I would try to avoid the conflict. So, I’d watch silently as they led him through the streets and silent as they nailed him to the cross. My spirit would have probably ached as I sat “nicely” while letting others speak up on his behalf. And, then I think on those words, from Jesus on the cross, that I mentioned above, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). I’ve always thought this scripture to reference only those who were openly persecuting him. Today, I feel differently. Today I see him asking forgiveness for all those who persecuted and all those who said nothing in opposition, out of fear or to walk the nice line or to not ruffle feathers or worse to ensure people still liked them. I believe the forgiveness Christ asked for was for Judas who with sin in his heart turned Jesus in and I believe the forgiveness was for Peter who continued to deny Jesus out of fear, to simply save face with others. I love Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and there are so many questions I’d love to ask him. I could listen to his sermons or speeches over and over because not only do his words stir hope in my spirit but his voice fills me with peace. Sometimes I look up his sermons or speeches just to listen and reflect. I normally do a Google search for images and while I listen I look through pictures trying to imagine him in person. I picture his braveness and strength that I know came from the Lord alone. He wasn’t afraid of an honest word or persecution or being disliked, but he had the gift of conveying a tough message with such grace. In many of his pictures I will see a few white people. Some are linked in arms with him while others are sprinkled in the crowd. Just like I wonder if I would have spoken up when Jesus was crucified, I wonder whether I would have stood publicly for justice with him or would I have nicely slinked back in fear and be more concerned about who approved of me. Jesus approves of me. An audience of one and that audience of one called me to speak up for wrong, to put on my armor and stand strong in my faith. Because there is no question what we are fighting is evil. The enemy thrives in division and the longer he can maintain the division, the longer he has a foothold. What I realize today is that my lack of stepping forward in support of racial justice is a contribution to the division. I no longer want to be apart of the problem, by remaining silent, but to be a part of the solution. Up until now, I don’t say anything because nothing I say can take away the YEARS of endlessly racism, persecution, and hate so many I love and those that came before them have faced. I don’t say anything because no words from a woman who has lived her life under the umbrella of white privilege seems to matter. My voice doesn’t have to matter to all those afflicted and it doesn’t have to change anything, but as a follower of Christ, it must be lifted in support of justice of those oppressed. If I’d been a bystander as Jesus was led to be crucified, would my words of disgust and opposition at the injustice have mattered? Most certainly not. My words wouldn’t have changed the situation or made the people reconsider the hate in their heart. But, my words would have been spoken in support and against the injustice. I’ve allowed fear of what others would think and the reality that my words won’t change anything to keep me from being brave. I’m sickened that many of my school babies have to endure ignorance of racism and I hate that they have to live in a world of persecution and injustice due to the color of their skin—still. When I read “Dear Martin” by Nic Stone with my school kids several years ago, I was heartbroken by the conversations we had of how careful they must be when out—“do nothing that could make someone assume your doing anything wrong”, “take off that hoodie”, “keep your hands out of your pockets”. Those are conversations some parents must have everyday with their children and it shouldn’t have to happen. No parent should have to even question, on any given day, if their child will be profiled or attacked because of the color of their skin. The worry and fear that some parents have to endure everyday while their children go into the world alone is appalling. I imagine Dr. King rising up to fight for justice while harboring forgiveness in his heart for all those who “know not what they do”, like me, who haven’t spoken up for justice, and also for the ones who most assuredly act in hate. I’m sorry for my lack of bravery and hiding behind Christian niceness for the sake of self. Because I do not think being silent is what Jesus called me to. He calls our words to be “seasoned with salt, SO THAT you know how to answer everyone” (Colossians 4:6). The time is now, enough is enough. The suffocation of oppression was made manifest with George Floyd. Let’s remove the ties that bind, breathe in justice and breathe out hate.
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Hi! I'm Morgan.Follower of Christ. Grace dependent. Wife. Mama. Homebody. Archives
July 2020
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