Reflecting, Pondering, & Worshipping
Grief hits me in waves. So does anger—a great week capped off with more Black public death.
I’ve spent this week in Washington, D.C., mostly unplugged, so when I returned to my hotel room after dinner with colleagues and friends, I tried to turn on the TV, but it wouldn’t work. So, I packed my clothes in preparation for returning home and turned on the prayer and worship service from Faith Chapel. After prayer, I fell into bed, exhausted from a long but beautiful week. While on my phone, I saw a notification from The New York Times mentioning a video of Tyre Nichols being brutalized by police. I watched one of the videos before I knew what it was. I couldn’t finish the other three videos.
It hurt too much.
I can’t handle watching Black people die. I can’t handle watching anyone die. I’ve experienced too much death. You know death is unnatural. It’s a result of humanity’s rebellion against God. Yes, we will all die, but it’s just a reminder that things are not as they should be.
I’ve been slowly reading Danté Stewart’s book Shoutin’ In The Fire: An American Epistle. It’s been preparing my soul for moments like this. I want to share an excerpt from his book with you. It’s not an answer, just a reflection.
“I imagined all the ways we keep on living, and keep on loving, and keep on breathing when we are exhausted, and keep on dancing when our knots are weak, and our stomachs churn, and our minds race between images of Black letters on white pages that tell us everything gonna be all right, and bodies motion to our minds that life does not end at this moment. I imagined all that we have lost this year. I imagined all that [James] Baldwin lost. I imagined all that we have. I imagined all of the ways I am thankful.”
“I imagined it all.”
“We have not stopped trembling yet,” Baldwin writes, “but if we had not loved each other, none of us would have survived, and now you must survive because we love you.”
I’ll close with this.
Friday, I had the opportunity to visit the National Museum of African American History and Culture. I did not know what the evening would have in store. Though I did take time to reflect on how far we’ve come. All the tears we’ve shed. The grief we’ve endured: the hopelessness and the hopefulness. I thought about the crushed dreams and denied promises. I took time to sit beside the running waters and inwardly weep. I song 🎶 it is well, with my soul. It is well with my soul. It is well with my soul. It is well, it is well, with my soul 🎶
I imagined a day that was brighter than today. Will you take a moment to worship & reflect with me?
Reflect:
PSALMS 23
The Lord the Shepherd of His People
A Psalm of David.
1 The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
2 He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
3 He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
6Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.
Worship: