I was too young to remember the 60’s. As a toddler I only cared about nap time, snacks and my Tonka trucks. I was innocent while the world around me exploded with violence, riots, racial tension and war.
I remember my father telling me about the 60’s, what he felt when Kennedy was assassinated and then Martin Luther King. It wasn’t black. It wasn’t white. It was just wrong and he felt it.
That’s how I feel today.
With just a few minutes of network news and I’m longing again for those days of innocence. I wish I could pull the covers over my head and pretend that I was in a fort, hidden away from the world. With a little time, I could fall asleep and it would all go away.
But I can’t. It’s right here, right now. In one day two black men are shot and the video looks to be without reason. For me , the argument goes beyond the ambiguities of Ferguson or Baltimore. And now I’m moved to sadness, knowing what will spawn.
And it didn’t take long for the outrage to morph into violence, revenge killings on Dallas police officers. And there’s more today. I fear for the weekend.
I admit, I’ll never understand what it means to have a gun in my face, colored by implication. Nor will I understand the pressure of those who are charged with keeping the law. But I do understand the need for all of us to pray, to repent, and reach across the lines.
Not knowing what else to do, I’m on my knees today. I’m praying for my good friends who are black, who are hurt and fearful, even angry. “God, give them courage to not give in, to not give up. Help them stand for righteousness and to trust you.”
I’m praying for my good friends who are in law enforcement. “God, give them safety. Give them wisdom in difficult situations.”
Beyond black. Beyond blue. What really matters is we all need God now more than ever.
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