Everyone has a story. Everyone has moments in their life where they were scared, confused, excited, sad, or misunderstood. I love to tell my story. I’m one of those people who will share my testimony at any time if asked and sometimes when not… Oh there’s how I came to know Christ as my Lord and Savior and stopped holding on to my family’s coattails and made my decision to trust Him and follow Him. There’s the testimony of what led me to quitting my IBM job and joining a musical theater ministry for two years. Oh the stories I could share on those two years….There’s the crazy story that lead me to my husband…There’s the testimony of how becoming a mom 17+ years ago humbled me and continues to humble me. There’s the joyful retelling of how my little recordings of hymns have helped others…also incredibly humbling. I could tell you of the Spirit’s voice that I hear as I study His Word and grow in my faith…there is so much more to learn – so much more I need to know and place in my heart!
What you won’t hear in my story are times of great fear for my life; no one has ever pointed a gun at me. My story does not have any times I was thrown in jail for protesting peacefully. My story doesn’t have any times I was thrown in jail without cause and left there because I didn’t have bail money to get out of jail for a crime I never committed. I have never been followed through stores because of a threat of me stealing something because of my skin color. I have never been pulled over and yelled at like I was a felon for anything.
Oh the list goes on. This is not ok. I want to be part of the solution and no longer silent.
Black Lives Matter!
And so the last week I have done all I can to find books and interviews. I have watched Neflix’s 13th and on Amazon Prime, Just Mercy. I have watched the 3rd hour of the Today show have an open conversation about race, ordered a book from a local bookstore, and on the waitlist for 10 more at the Austin Public Library. I am following black leaders on social media who are giving advice and hope. I have prayed through tears for my many black friends and for the countless others I don’t know. I have prayed for forgiveness for my lack of effort in the past – for my missteps – for any way I was part of the problem as a privileged, white female.
Ignorance. My husband says I grew up under a rock. Maybe I did. Maybe throughout my life I went back to that comfortable place under the rock or in my sand pile with my feet sticking out. It’s time to shake the sand out of my hair and throw out the rock.
BLACK LIVES MATTER!
Educate! Listen! Have the conversations! VOTE!!!