cry and sing of Hope

Hope

Race, privilege - authenticity? Belonging? Permission to grieve?
Who am I who has so much, who am I to cry?
 I cry hearing the pain of my sister
 I have not lived it
 I chose to give up what I can easily choose to take back. Rankism.
My education, my family network opens many doors others cannot access.
But I cry for that reality to change.
Can my cry be a trumpet blast in halls of complacency?

Can the cry of a middle class white girl on behalf of the sad broken state of our justice system, our schools, our neighborhoods and families, be heard and deemed lagitament?
 Does it matter of they are?
I think so, but then I wonder, by who?

My friend is being sold. Abused. Exploited!!
No, I am not.
I have never been raped or molested, but my friend, my sister, has and is and This Must Stop!
I carry so many stories in my heart and they are heavy.

I cry out with a cry of empathy
No, I will never fully understand
So I will not try to be your voice but rather sound the trumpet, shake the ground,
open the cages of systems holding you back,
usher you into the doors I can, and then You cry out Your song of lament,
of truth,
and together we proclaim the song of hope.

"injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere"

If I see the injustice done against you and say nothing, what is that?
If I weep, not on my own behalf but for what is happening to you, am I not showing you I care? That I wish there was some other reality? That I wonder why you and not me and I am sorry for my privilege?

And I do weep on my own behalf in sorrow, regret, appology for what I - my race, my religion and my country have done.
 What my government has done and fails to do, what my Church has done and fails to do.
I am part of the problem.
I am so sorry.

But I hear the rumblings of another way possible- in the cry and lament, imagining there must be something better
Do you hear it?
The low, steady heartbeats of hope reverberating in my spirit and yours, calling towards harmony!?
It rises
And I know I must not keep silence!
I invite you to join me in my weeping and my obstinate hope.
Let me not tell your story for you, label or forget you in my rush to sound the trumpet.
You and I together - we will cry and sing of hope.

cry

John Perkins was with us for a few days at the Center For Reconciliation Summer Institute at Duke Divinity. His last night, he shared at evening worship. I wrote this later that night, reflecting back to why i was overwhelmed with a deep sadness and crying as he finished and stepped off the stage. It was a powerful moment in a powerful, challenging, inspiring week.
here are my reflections:

Cry
Tears welled up in my eyes as he, choking back tears quoted "...i'll fly away!"
A life lived for Justice
sold out for all God would do in and through him
nearing the end and excited, sad, thankful, tearful
leaving us.
Passing the baton...
But can we carry this on?
A spark reignited
strengthened
My heart leaps to the call
is hungry for more
Don't go!
The brokenness is so vast
so dark
the weight is crushing and tears flow down my cheeks
I am willing to be used
I long to be used
but i feel i am pressed down
blown out
wet blankets come flying from... where?
damp
dark
heavy
why?
I know I've been called, but i feel numb

But then slow and steady, low and gravely, "I know why the caged bird sings..."
A life lived to the fullness of God's glorious, challenging, painful calling to beloved community speaks fire into my heart and awakens my soul again.
The pain crushes but i feel.
I weep.
The hope we are striving towards is real
It can hurt
and cost our lives
But this is the Hope
Surprised by reconciliation
an interruption
an inconvenience?!
Struck by beauty
by sacrifice
by inspiration and a flame restored.
I cry but i rejoice to know
Reconciliation to what end?
Dancing in hope together against injustice.
"The caged bird sings... of freedom."