Confessions

I've been feeling like writing this post for a while now. Which by no means will make it easy to write or easy to hit the publish button.

The issues recently involving race have brought up some memories for me, and I feel one of the best ways to overcome some of our issues is to openly talk about our issues.

So, here goes...

When I was growing up I remember thinking that black people were cool.

I listened to rap music.

My favorite basketball player was Michael Jordan.

My favorite actor was Will Smith.

My favorite baseball player was Frank Thomas.

The last thing I thought I would be was racist.

I even had a friend in one of the places we lived that was from Jamaica.

It wasn't until I went to college at MNU that I was really confronted with race issues.

While we were singing during one of our first choir practices, I felt an arm go around my shoulders. I turned and there next to me was a big black man with his arm around me singing.

I'd like to say that I wasn't scared. But I was.

I'd like to say that I would have felt the same if it was a white guy. But I can't.

I later came to be friends with the guy and he was one of the ones that helped me get over some of the feelings that I didn't even know I had.

Later that year, I remember going back to my room and seeing three black guys hanging around my door.

Once again, I'd like to say that I wasn't scared. But I was.

I'd like to say that I would have felt the same if it were white guys. But I can't.

It turns out they were just a bunch of guys talking with one of my roommates. That year was just after Napster came out and my roommate and I would download music and burn it onto CD's with my computer. It was a nice way to make a couple bucks.

These guys would end up coming around every once in a while to say hi or ask for another playlist that they wanted burned.

I can't explain why these memories stand out so much to me. But maybe it's because it pointed out to me, that even if I thought of myself as open and caring to all people, I found out I wasn't.

Then I found out that black people are really just people.

Skin color doesn't matter.

Your upbringing doesn't matter.

We are all just a bunch of crazy humans riding along on this planet together.

If more of us just got together and talked to each other as human beings, we would find out that we are the same.

I'm not saying that race and upbringing doesn't play a factor in who we are. More that it shouldn't change the way you treat someone.

We are all in this together.

We are all created and loved by a wonderful artist.

Each of us has our different parts.

But that's what makes us beautiful.

Lord...why?

I generally try to stay out of things like this, but I don’t think I can hold it in anymore.

I spent most of the night watching coverage of the shootings in Dallas, and I can’t help but feel this sense of dread and hopelessness.

What is happening in our world that we can’t go a day without hearing of some killing on the news?

It seems like our whole world is going crazy.

My heart breaks for all of the people in our world that have to go to bed tonight knowing that someone they love has been killed.

To me this has nothing to do with race. I know that race has played a big part in a lot of the killings in the news lately. But I don’t care what race you are, if your loved one was shot and killed, it’s a tragedy.

I haven’t really wanted to say anything on this, because I’m a white middle class man. Which in this country, means I’m pretty safe.

No one is threatening my life on a daily basis.

I don’t have to think about things the same way as african-americans do.

I don’t have to tell my son to be extra careful in public or he might get shot.

But I don’t know what to tell my kids anymore.

Of course we try to keep as much of what's been going on from them.

But how can I continue to tell them the world is a great place when people are getting killed everyday for pointless reasons?

How do I explain that black people are being killed by the people I’ve told them they are to trust?

I don’t even know what to do anymore.

No matter race or creed or religion, my brother’s blood is calling out to me from across the world.

I’ve thought to pray about it, but all I can get out is, “Lord… why?”

I don’t have any answers.

Tonight I’m in a hotel room and my kids are sleeping with my in laws. I’m awake in the middle of the night because I can’t stop thinking of all of this.

At the end of all of this all I want to do is hug my kids and never let go.

Church Family

So, this week my family has been on vacation and I realized something yesterday.

I missed meeting with my church family.

I don't mean that I didn't like the church that I went to, or that it was a bad service. I actually liked the service, and it's always nice to be back at Overland Park Nazarene.

But I realized that it wasn't my church family. I missed being among the people that make up Eden Community.

I don't know if I've ever really felt this kind of belonging in a church. Definitely not since I was a kid in the churches that my dad pastored in.

I also realized that from where I stand on most Sundays, I get to see a most beautiful sight. I get to see my church worship. I get to see the Lord move in our services.

It has amazed me to see the different ways people worship God. It truly is an amazingly beautiful site.

I don't think I had realized how amazing it has been to be involved in a church until I took a vacation.

I can't wait to be back with my church family.