And yes, I’m ranting.

Here’s what I need you to know right now.
I can’t stop talking about this. I tried. I tried to talk and write about one of the other 9 billion causes I care passionately about. But my fingers felt heavy and my words felt far too light. Our city, my new city, the place where God has asked me to live and serve and plant roots and raise my kid, is cracking and steaming and crumbling and folding all at the same time, and in fifteen different directions. It’s happening in the church I serve, in my kid’s school, at every meeting, on every social media page, at the gas station, grocery store, coffee shop, and every fast food restaurant I frequent. Oh, and I frequent them. Because I have to get up from my desk because my head is exploding with every story I read of every violation, of every abuse, of every disrespect, every injustice, every outrage, of every frat boy singing, every federal government reporting, and every gun shot and unarmed black teen murdered by someone sworn to protect him. My heart is breaking anew each day. I cry out, O Lord, how long? How long will we allow this to go on? How long will we sit silent, being nice and avoiding conflict? How long will it take to convince all people that BLACK LIVES MATTER? That the legal penalty for petty theft or resisting arrest is not DEATH? That people who are mentally ill deserve help and not handcuffs? That there are good cops who make smart decisions NOT TO SHOOT PEOPLE every day? And that the ones who can’t make smart decisions shouldn’t be given guns? That white privilege needs to be checked? Including mine. Especially mine. Oh, and how every new day brings another horrible, rage inducing story. So, no, I can’t stop talking about it. Yeah, I am gonna be that girl. You’ll want me to move on. Or to give it a rest. I want me to move on. I really want to stop talking about this. But I can’t. We can’t. We mustn’t. So I need you to know that I’m going to keep bringing it up. And I will listen to you. Wherever you are. Even if you totally disagree with me. Especially if you totally disagree with me. But we’ve got to keep working on it. We’ve got to keep talking about it. We’ve got to. ALL of us. Until the system is fixed. Until the issues are exposed. Until the children feel safe. Until the body count stops. Until saying something like “Black Lives Matter” is no longer controversial.

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