Rain falls like teardrops outside my front door. It makes me feel both sad, and calm. Sad because I think that God, Himself, must be moved to tears by what’s going on in the world these days. And, calm because maybe, just maybe, the rain will keep falling, and my black brothers, and sisters will stay in the house, or at their jobs, long enough to not get shot today. So, in my heart, I pray.
I want to step outside, and let the rain fall on my caramel skin. The coolness of it is attractive; a comforting bath in the water from God’s eyes. But, I don’t move. I just stand at the front door, and watch through the screen. And, I wonder what He must feel about the way people are treating each other; the ugly things they have to say to one another. And, in my heart, I pray.
I remember on yesterday, as I scrolled through the open pages of social media, I saw a man refer to a person as a monkey. I saw a woman refer to him as a cracker. And, it broke my heart. God’s creation, his beautiful flowers, without enough respect for the very fact that He created them both. Neither with enough knowledge to understand that every color in a painting makes it standout so beautifully. If God’s painting were all white, it’d be drab, dull, lifeless. And, if it were only black, what would be the point? It made me sad to think of life that way, drab, dull, lifeless…no point. And so, in my heart, I prayed.
Trying to grab hold to a little more faith, I tell myself “It’ll be alright!” Still, I avoid the news, the media seems to try and make it all worse. And, no matter how many people you unfriend, or unfollow, on social media, someone, out of the blue, will share something hateful. Sometimes, I have to just unplug, log off, because I don’t want to pick up the same spirit; the uncaring, unkindly spirit of ridicule. And so, I pray. In my heart, I pray.
The rain clouds block the sunshine. My front room is dark, except for the small piece of light that breaks through from the bathroom in the hall. I take a seat, and let the stiffness of the back of my dining room chair hold me upright. I allow myself to get lost in thought. “Who knew there could be this much hate in the world?” I answer my own question out loud. “God knew!” And still, He put us here, together, giving us a chance to make things right. Don’t we owe it to Him to try? To love every flower, every tree, every rock, everyone, despite whatever differences we may have? But, the world seems to have given in to hate, not love. And so, in my heart, I pray.
I refuse to give into any of it. I feel it, though. “Another Unarmed Black Man Gunned Down By Police”, “Dayton Teen Murdered”, ” Trump Says Something Stupid”, almost every headline cringe-worthy. But, to me, it’s all a test of my faith. I can give in to the ugly, comment on every post, get my feelings hurt, hurt somebody’s feelings. Or, I can let Him handle His world, Himself. The devil would pull us all into a pit of hate, if he could. But, with that, God would not be pleased. So I fight it, daily. And, I pray.
So much of the world claims to love God. But, they hate the person who sits next to them at work. They love God, but kindness, and mercy escape their character. It baffles me. I tell you, it is mortifying. Still, it is not my place to judge. I must leave that to God. And so, I just pray.
All I can do is pray.