Sharing Our Stories: Why we need to lament

A Call to Lament
A guest post by Kristen Terrette

Lament.

It’s a word I rarely used until about a year ago.

To lament means to passionately express grief or sorrow and, in my opinion, to go a step further in our repentance. When we repent, we feel sincere regret or remorse about our wrongdoing or sin and turn away from it. But lamenting brings a physical element to this sorrow, this guilt, this the feeling of shame. When we see people lament in the Bible, there’s an action to it. There is weeping. There is crying out. There is fervent prayer.

I use this word regularly of late. I’ve long thought slavery and the Trail of Tears, treating humans as property and “savages”, was sinful, shameful, and disgraceful. And in truth, there aren’t many Americans who don’t feel this way. But we’ve got a long way to go in lamenting and repenting for the hundreds of years of sin our country (USA) that our White ancestors were a part of.

When I look at our nation and finally truly see its sinful past against BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) groups, and its effects happening even today, I lament my role in perpetuating it.

And what baffles me is the push back from White Christians over lamenting our sinful past. This very idea causes many White people to react in offense and shock because they feel that they do not need to lament something they weren’t a part of.

But I believe that’s simply not true and impossible.

Since the beginning of history, ethnic groups have been conquered, their lands taken, plundered, and their people were placed under the rule of the conqueror. Sometimes the conquerors destroyed those they deemed “unworthy” so completely that entire villages, towns, even nations were wiped out forever. And, sadly, it is a historical fact that this cycle happened to the Indigenous people in the United States. They were conquered in horrendous ways. Oftentimes, by White Christians.

And then there is the history of slavery in our nation.

With the Transatlantic Slave Trade, individuals were kidnapped and trafficked. We talk a lot about the current trafficking atrocities in the world. We’re passionate about ending this sin against humanity. But why does the same passion seem to be now politically incorrect when describing the Transatlantic Slave Trade in our own country, by calling it what it really was—a people group trafficked by White Christians?

Innocent men, women, and children were kidnapped, abused, murdered, raped, chained, torn apart from their families, forced into labor, their human dignity stripped, and placed in situations totally out of their control.

Some people may say that they never had slaves, but we live in a country whose thriving economy and very existence was built on human trafficking.

You may say your ancestors came to America for a new life after the abolition of slavery (as some of mine did). But your family, and mine, profit from an economy that was established through the forceful enslavement of human beings.

What is stopping us from seeing and admitting our past? From being willing to lament? Why are White Christians not leading this charge by the hundreds of thousands?

Blindness.

Blinded by the enemy and blind to the devil’s generational curse on us.

I lament this. I cry over this. I tell God I’m so sorry my country hurt Him and His beloved so badly. I tell Him we have sinned against Him and to please forgive us.

Daniel is an excellent example of the power of personal and national lamenting. According to Daniel 9:4-5 (NLT), he said: I prayed to the Lord my God and confessed: “O Lord, you are a great and awesome God! You always fulfill your covenant and keep your promises of unfailing love to those who love you and obey your commands. But we have sinned and done wrong. We have rebelled against you and scorned your commands and regulations.”

And later in Daniel 9:16 (NLT), he pleads for God to turn His anger away again. The verse reads, “In view of all your faithful mercies, Lord, please turn your furious anger away from your city Jerusalem, your holy mountain. All the neighboring nations mock Jerusalem and your people because of our sins and the sins of our ancestors.”

Daniel was a great and godly man. He likely did not personally sin against God in this way, but he prays and laments anyway. He was not alive when his people (his ancestors before him), sinned against God, yet he prayed and lamented anyway.

I want to follow Daniel’s example. I want to break the curse of blindness over our nation’s sins. I don’t want to be the source of any more abuse to people of color. I want to make a difference, taking strides to make things right for those who have been hurt.

This is my plea for all of us. That we pray and seek God, read and inform ourselves, and not only from people who are like us. That we seek to be informed with an open mind and spirit of love. That we are brave and open to change. That we are bold in tearing any veil the enemy has over our eyes.

Lament. Let us begin to use this word freely and sincerely. Amen.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus.

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA, where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: My heart's cry

A Cry of Lament
A guest post written by Stephanie Bankhead

These past several weeks have been exceptionally difficult. It is easy to read the news and allow frustration and grief to settle in like a rock sinking to the bottom of a pond.

To make matters worse, I have had several very tense conversations with White friends. I want so badly for them to understand and acknowledge the cry of our fellow humans of color. But I walk away from those conversations feeling like the road ahead is steep and rocky. It feels monumental.

In an effort to deal with all the mixed emotions that have plagued me lately, I have written this cry of lament. I’m sharing it with you in hopes that it will help you too. That God’s love will settle over you and bring a peace that passes understanding.

This is my cry…

O Most High and Holy God,

There is a chasm wider than any canyon on earth between Your children this day.

We are so self-absorbed and self-protective that we can’t see our fellow humans

for the beautiful images of You that they are.

We are angry and always ready for a fight.

We are killing and maiming each other literally and figuratively.

Even though Your Word clearly tells us that there is no distinction of hierarchy in Your Kingdom,

we classify and label in order to elevate ourselves to higher status.

We stand in pride, refusing to see our brothers and sisters who are hurting and in pain.

Because acknowledging their pain and oppression would be admitting that we have done wrong.

Lord God, we need You.

We need You to change hearts and mindsets.

Help us to be gentle in our conversations with those who aren’t ready to hear and to ask more questions than to argue.

Give us a heart of humility and repentance. We have done wrong.

We have sinned against you and against our fellow human beings.

Please let our convictions show through our words and actions.

We need Your Holy Spirit to bring peace and open our eyes.

You, Lord Jesus, went around doing good when you walked on this dusty earth two thousand years ago.

Empower us to do good too. We want to be like You.

You are the lifter of the oppressed. You set captives free.

Jesus, You are our freedom. Your death and resurrection has saved us and set us free.

We want to live like we believe that with all our hearts.

No matter the crazy circumstances of the world, we trust You, God.

We put our hope in You. You saved us before and You will save us once again.

We will shout with joy the new song of freedom and love that You have put in our mouths.

We will sing of Your goodness and mercy all of our days.

Your grace is sufficient.

And we thank You. 

In Jesus’s Name I pray.

Amen.

~*~
Author Bio:

Stephanie Bankhead is a Bible teacher, mentor and author of several Bible studies. She has worked at a local church as the Women’s Ministry Leader since 2013. In 2018, she became an ordained Teaching Pastor. Before that, she worked as the director of a very successful youth volleyball club.

What both of these experiences taught her is that women are still little girls inside. Deep down we are all still asking the same questions, “Am I capable? Am I attractive? Am I enough?”

Stephanie delivers sermons and speaks at women’s events on a multitude of topics. Her favorite topic is teaching people what the Bible says about their own identity in God.

Stephanie lives in Amarillo, Texas with her husband of 32 years. They have a rescue pup who barks too much, and a bird abandoned when her two grown children flew the nest. Her four grandchildren are the apples of her eye.

Sharing Our Stories: Black Love Matters

Black Love Matters
A guest post by Dr. Angelle M. Jones

“He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

– Luke 10:27 (NIV)

I’m currently reading President Barack Obama’s newest book, A Promised Land.

This idiomatic motif invites the open heart and mind of the reader to enter into a previously forbidden part of his life. President Obama uses this intimate and personal memoir to invite anyone interested to go on a journey with him into the White House Situation Room, and the presidential Oval Office.

The reader is also allowed to enter into the complex space inside the mind of a younger, rising, yet improbable presidential candidate. Of course, the reader is catapulted into one of the most compelling Black life expeditions ever experienced. In his most humble yet understandably confident way, Obama chronicles his journey. We hear the conflict, yet deep conviction, while searching for his authentic voice in the echoing chambers of the whitewashed world of Harvard Law School. From the ivory towered halls of Harvard to the sound of his paving the streets of Chicago (Illinois), serving as a grassroots community organizer, Obama as the author transports the reader from the written page to urban America where he gained momentum, to earning the right to become a well-respected political pundit.

In this lengthy, yet tell-all narrative, we learn some of the highs and lows from the first Black man to serve in the highest office of the United States. This true story is told by the voice of the one who rose from living in a small apartment dwelling in a predominately Black community in Chicago, to becoming the first Black inhabitant of the White House that Black slaves built. In the memoir, we get a glimpse of the man who will go down in history, not only as 44th President of the United States, but as the one the world watched emerge as the first of African descent to rise to that position of world-renowned power.

Not only from reading the book, but since becoming a public figure, one of the things that always stood out to me is Obama’s undying love for his wife Michelle. For those blinded by the political division or racial dissonance, or perhaps even a loathing disdain for the first Black President, you may have missed what remains clearly evident to the majority of the Black community. I’m sure I speak for many, more than the type of political leader one becomes, for the average card-carrying Black person, Black love reigns. Contrary to what is portrayed, no matter how many of the fifty percent of American marriages dissolved in Divorce Court include us, Black love matters.

Since slavery, marriages between African slaves and African-Americans today, have been depicted by Whites adversely. Possibly because marriage between slaves were not recognized as legal, slave masters didn’t regard the growing intimacy between slave men and women as love. Because White people did not consider those with black and brown skin to be considered human, the idea of property joining together in holy matrimony was probably as realistic to their slave masters as imagining their animals marrying. Subsequently, the idea of whether two melanin-dipped animals could experience true love was highly unfeasible.

Between slaves not being recognized as human and not being allowed to marry, what was missed through the blurred lens of slave masters was the inexplicable existence of an incomparable and enduring Black love. Fortunately, today, many real-life slave narratives are being discovered, some reflecting factual accounts of this resilient Black love. Stories of love able to withstand separation from their mate when one slave partner was ripped from their family to be sold to another master located hundreds of miles away. The deep and abiding love between two slaves, which may have been put on hold when unwillingly sold and separated, love which never ceased until they found one another. A love that allowed them to create their own version of a post-slavery, Happily Ever After. 

The narrative often cited as the number one reason for problems in the African-American community, is fatherlessness. For years now, White sociologists have studied, researched and deemed the lack of fathers in the home as the major cause for the so-called demise of the Black family. Fatherlessness has been blamed for everything from poverty to teen pregnancy. Since the Jim Crow era, reports and studies like the 1965 Moynihan Report, are used to prove the disconnected Black family is supposedly due to socially irresponsible Black people choosing to live together over marrying.

For years, sociologists have found ways to relieve White America of the guilt and responsibility for damaging the lives of generations of Black families. Psychologists would rather deny that perhaps the percentage of fatherlessness, and not marrying might be the residual traumatization of the thousands of Black people captured, stolen and brought unwillingly across the world in the belly of a ship, stacked like the animals it was made for. Truth is, surviving as enslaved people who were stripped of their culture and family identity reveal that Black love is probably one of the most resilient expressions of God’s love ever shown. Contrary to White sociological thought, Black love is authentic, giving, selfless, enduring and most importantly forgiving.

Think about it: If you are White and have one Black associate or friend, you are a recipient of that forgiving, Black love. Only a people who love God with all their heart, soul and mind can in return, extend that love to that neighbor who may also be their oppressor.

In a society that continues to demonize Black lives, when bombarded with media images causing you to question whether those Black lives are worthy of love, replace them with one of President Barack and First Lady Michelle Obama and capture the essence of Black love.

Hopefully this image will serve as a reminder that Black Love is worthy, and yes, it does matter.

~*~
Author Bio: 

“Inspiring and Motivating With the Power of Words” 

Angelle M. Jones believes that the power of words inspires, and motivate to bring about transformative change individually and collectively. 

Angelle originally hails from Cleveland, Ohio. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in African-American studies from the University of Cincinnati. Angelle has a master’s degree in Theological Studies from Columbia Theological Seminary in Atlanta, Georgia and an earned Doctorate in Ministry on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, and his philosophy of The Beloved Community from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.

Her ministry career began as a staff member of the Northeastern Ohio Billy Graham Crusade in 1994. For twenty years, as founder and director of In The Spirit Ministries, Inc., she led teams on mission outreaches throughout the world. From 2007-2012 Angelle served as Missions Director of New Salem Missionary Baptist Church in Columbus, Ohio where she currently resides. Angelle is founder and director of GlobaLife Coaching and Consulting serving as a Life and Transformation Coach and Church Consultant.

In 2016 Angelle authored and self-published her first book, Happily Never After. Along with sharing words of hope by sharing her writings on her social media platforms, she has been published in Vantage Magazine which is a literary source for faculty, students and alumni of Columbia Theological Seminary, and Ready, which is a cutting-edge online magazine addressing current events and trending socially relevant topics for women.

Angelle is the mother of an adult daughter. She is a grandmother and great-grandmother.

~*~
Connect with Dr. Angelle:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/angelle.m.jones.5
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/abundantgrace1/
Website: www.globalifetransforms.com
Email: globalifeconsultants@gmail.com

Sharing Our Stories: Why Racism is Wrong

Racism Against People of Color
A guest post by Sherrinda Ketchersid

Since George Floyd’s death, I’ve been educating myself about racism and White privilege. Most of the books, magazines, and online articles have focused on Black voices, but as I have friends and family members who are married to Latinxs, I’ve begun to investigate the issues that this and other underrepresented groups face. My findings have been eye-opening. As people of God, we cannot close our eyes to the mistreatment of God-created human beings.

Let’s talk about the Latinx group. I did not know this, but Latinx is the biggest minority group in the United States—not by much, with Blacks coming in close behind. I also learned that Latinx are the second most discriminated ethnic group after Blacks. Like Black people, the darkness or lightness of their skin contributes to the level of discrimination.

From a survey done by pewresearch.org, four in ten Latinx say they have recently experienced one of the following incidents—called offensive names, told to go back to their home country, disparaged for speaking Spanish, and given harsh treatment because of their ethnicity.

Let’s not forget the issues with the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Detention Centers—families separated, poor living conditions, poor medical treatment, etc. There is a history of abuse and neglect dating back to the early 1900s. Allegations of rape and unauthorized sterilizations abound. Even for those Latinx born in the U.S., many of them live in fear for family members and friends.

Now let’s turn our attention on Indigenous Americans. We all have heard about how colonization of North America forced Indigenous Americans from their homes and their sacred lands, many slaughtered in the process. They were told untruths, endured broken treaties, and forced into segregation on reservations. Today, Indigenous Americans face discrimination across a variety of areas such as medical treatment, interaction with police, educational processes, microaggressions, and racial slurs.

Statistics show that Indigenous Americans who live in a heavily populated Native area are more likely to experience institutional discrimination than those in a less populated Native area. In regard to housing, a few years ago in North Dakota, a law was passed that made having a photo ID with a street address a requirement to vote. This targeted the Indigenous Americans, many of whom used P.O. Boxes. Voter repression is still happening, just as it is for the Black community, where the war on drugs and mass incarceration makes voting impossible.

Now let’s look at Asian Americans. Some of you may have seen on the news this year instances where some have been told to “go home”, all because COVID-19 was first reported in China. The virus has been called the “China Flu” by some, which in and of itself is racist. But this is not a new thing, according to history.

Discrimination against Asians goes back a long way. Back around the 1850s, Chinese workers began to come over to U.S., fleeing from wars and economic hardship. At first they were welcomed, but soon were seen as competition from lower-class whites. In 1870, The Naturalization Act gave naturalization rights to those of African descent, but not those of Asian descent.

In the 1960s, during the anti-black discrimination uprising, Asian-Americans became the poster child for the new term “model-minority”, stating they were better at abiding by the law and being hard workers. While this may have looked good on the outside, it constituted the idea that Asian Americans did not need government assistance.

Asian Americans face discrimination today. In one study at the University of Toronto, it was found that those of East Asian descent were thought of as extremely competent, but lacking leadership and dominance, making them overlooked for leadership positions. This is alluded to as the “bamboo ceiling”—and why Asian Americans don’t consider advanced degrees as profitable as for whites.

Black people have been discriminated against more openly and ruthlessly. The injustices they have been dealt with have been reprehensible and violent. From slavery, to segregation, to voter suppression, to lynching, to mass incarceration, to police brutality, Black people in America have been dealt a heavy blow.

I know I am excluding other underrepresented groups like Middle Eastern, South Asian, and others, which I know experience discrimination as well, but to be mindful of the length of this post, I am focusing on other people of color at this time.

The discrimination and racial injustices against people of color … all colors … is perpetrated by people of white skin. This was true even before American colonization. It is pervasive and though we try to make things better, other structures of suppression pop up.

As believers in Christ, we cannot stand by and be silent any longer. Scripture clearly tells us of God’s heart for all people. Each one of us are His creation, made in His image (Genesis 1:27). We are to treat every person with respect and love.

We should not favor whites over people of color because, as Christ’s followers, we follow His example and teachings. It was Jesus Christ’s disciple Peter who said, “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right.” (Acts 10:34-35 NIV)

In the book of Revelation 7:9-10 (NIV), we see that in heaven “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” Everyone, no matter their nationality, their ethnicity, or their skin color will be excluded from God’s kingdom. If God does not exclude, why would we?

As we move forward in 2021, I am challenging myself—and others—to examine our lives to see we show favoritism. Do we watch TV and movies that only feature white leads? Do we read books that are white centered? Does our friend circle all have the same color skin? Do we initiate conversations with others who look different from us? Do we seek to befriend and truly know and understand others of different backgrounds? Are we calling out racism when we see it…in ourselves and in others? These are questions I am asking myself this year.

I pray that my heart grows in bravery in the face of injustice, and that I will expand my circle of friends to include more diversity. What about you? How will you work on your heart in regard to racial justice?

~*~
Author Bio:

Sherrinda Ketchersid is an author of historical romance and a minister’s wife who loves to paint in her Bible.

She loves to read, spend time in her flower garden, and try her hand at new crafts. She likes to blog and is part of a group called The Writers Alley. 

Sherrinda lives in north-central Texas with her husband of 35 years. With four grown children, three guys and a gal, she has more time and energy to spin tales of faith, fun, and forever love.

~*~
Connect with Sherrinda:
Website: www.sherrinda.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SherrindaKetchersidAuthor/
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/sherrinda
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sherrinda
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sherrinda/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19022507.Sherrinda_Ketchersid
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/sherrinda-ketchersid
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sherrinda-Ketchersid/e/B07Q5Y8QHF/

Sharing Our Stories: The things we say

Please Stop Saying …
A guest post by Kristen Rimer Terrette

“Slavery ended over 150 years ago … I never owned slaves … I’m not privileged. I’ve had hardships too … Everyone has the same rights now!”

Do these sentences make you sigh? Part of me wants to rant when I hear them. Part of me wants to cry. White brothers and sisters, can I speak solely to you for a moment?

In my experience, these words are usually said in defense by my well-meaning white friends or acquaintances who feel they haven’t contributed to racism or displayed hatred toward people of color. They feel they’re not part of the problem. And in part, that’s true, because they don’t use racial slurs, shy away from friendships with different ethnicities, and may work cordially alongside people who don’t look like them.

But my frustration with these statements is that they degrade people of color’s experiences with racism, prejudice, and injustice, as well as their victories.

They also put us, the white majority, in a position of complacency and indifference.

Let me lay out some realities …

A few weeks ago, November 14, 2020, marked sixty years since six-year-old Ruby Bridges walked into a previously, like literally until that very moment, all white school in Louisiana. What a brave little girl! What a courageous mother to send her that morning!

To back up a bit more, in May of 1954, only six years earlier, the Supreme Court ruled in Brown vs. the Board of Education that “state-sanctioned segregation of public schools was a violation of the 14th amendment and was therefore unconstitutional.” It took six years for this decision to trickle down to Ruby Bridges’ town. Six. Years. For a ruling over something that should have never been in place at all.

And my mother’s city, Chattanooga, TN, took even longer. It was 1963-1964 when her school desegregated. Almost ten years after Brown vs. the Board of Education ruling! Ten years for her school, and the surrounding area, to implement desegregation.

So, let’s talk some facts. I’m in my thirties (though my very late thirties, but let’s not go there). I have school-aged children, with one still in elementary. And my mother (my kids’ grandmother), who is only in her mid-sixties literally witnessed (as in a firsthand account) the very first black children being admitted into her previously all white grade school. And she was ten years old at the time—not a baby, not a kindergartener, but a child about to go into middle school.

This should put things in perspective for those who feel like the civil rights movement happened a long time ago. There is only one generation—mine—between the children who witnessed desegregation and the children who are seeing the racial tensions we’re witnessing now.

Only ONE generation.

Truth is slavery as an institution ended on paper roughly 150 years ago, but that’s only about six generations back by my count. And its oppressive affects lasted much longer. In fact, they are still being felt today.

Please, hear my heart, and let my information dump serve as a plea for us to live as Paul asks us to in 1 Corinthians 12. He eloquently discusses the importance of being of one accord in a passage aptly titled, Unity and Diversity in the Body (the church). According to this passage, Paul says in 1 Corinthians 12:25-26 (NIV), “so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” 

Our Christian brothers and sisters have stories to tell. Ones of grief and ones of triumph. So, we must rid our minds and tongues from the demeaning phrases above. And, instead, listen to people of color who still struggle with the painful effects of racism, but who are afraid to tell their stories because of the responses they get in return. We must also celebrate greatly all minorities who have accomplished so much in such a short amount of time instead of diminishing their victories with flippant responses or, and possibly even worse, by acting like we understand their pain in these areas.

Let’s take Paul’s advice and approach our diverse relationships by asking Jesus for spiritual eyes and ears to listen and celebrate each other. We are one body of Christ after all.

People of color, do you have a story to tell? We’re ready to listen, so let’s keep the conversation going! Comment below or on social media to tell us your story, whether one of heartache or victory. We want to listen, learn, and celebrate with you.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: Challenging the status quo

Challenging the Status Quo: Going Against Our Elders
A guest post by Kristen Terrette

Spiritual Elders. We all have them. They may be our church leaders or mentors. Or grandparents. Or parents. Or even our friends’ parents. 

Really, what I consider an elder is anyone with earned respect through evidence of wisdom and spiritual maturity. It’s a position garnered through life experience, and it warrants a level of reverence and humility in the mentee. It’s a place, even if figuratively, of honor.

But what happens when an elder lets you down? Are we, as the underling, allowed to combat them? Do we speak up about the injustice? Or are we supposed to halt our mouths?

I’ve been dealing with this struggle a lot lately when it comes to the tension amongst whites and black or brown people. It seems the moment you agree to take a stand and do your part in fighting racial injustice of any kind, the devil comes prowling to show you just how weak and unworthy of the cause you are.

I’ve dealt with family members who don’t see eye to eye with my views on interracial dating or marriage. I’ve had someone who went to school with my husband incorrectly assume I’d be offended if I had a biracial grandchild one day. These were handled, hopefully, appropriately when I carefully stated I did not agree with their opinions. But recently, I was confronted not once, but twice with an uncomfortable situation with an elder.

And now, I’m feeling like I didn’t handle it correctly. That I let God and the people of color in my life down. Let me explain.

I was at an event with many childhood friends, and a man I’ve known a long time proceeded to tell a racist joke. My back was turned away from him at the time. He wasn’t close by but made an effort to tell the awful joke loudly so all could hear it. I froze, not knowing what to do. I decided to pretend I didn’t hear him, to ignore him. Maybe that way he’d leave having gotten no reaction from his audience. And no one, to my knowledge because I had my back to them, did indulge him. I didn’t hear laughing or comments. And honestly, it happened so fast, I thought: Okay, I reacted somewhat appropriately to that despicable joke which completely disgusted everything inside of me.

But then, hours later, he drew near once more and told another racist joke. A different one, like he had plenty to choose from, all stored away in his mind to pull forth when he wanted. I was facing my friend and, again, not him at the time. Both our eyes went wide. Our expressions turned angry and red as we, through the eye stare only close friends can have, silently asked each other, “What do we do?” I steeled my body against the rage. We rolled our eyes and made extra effort not to allow any movement or sound escape. We silently told one another not to let him even think he got a laugh out of us. 

But I didn’t say anything. Didn’t call him out for this repulsive humor. Didn’t stand and leave the area with a snarl he could see. Didn’t make sure, absolutely sure, he knew I didn’t think his jokes—or rather insults—were funny, that they in fact not only offended people I love but offended me as well by him thinking he could tell them in my presence.

And see, this man is a devoted church member. He’s raised a daughter with a beautiful heart and love for God. He prayed over the microphone for our dinner. He openly talks about Jesus, His Savior, which makes this situation so hard.

But, in prayer, I realized that I witnessed a blind spot in this man’s soul exposing itself. We all have them—blind spots. They’re a deception placed on us by the enemy. A part of our self that needs work, but a part that the devil has covered up carefully so that we don’t even notice it’s causing problems in our journey with Jesus.

My battle is not with this man, but with the enemy, so I must pray his blind spot is revealed to him (as I pray mine are to me as well). And I must ask God for forgiveness over my failure, and that He, in His glorious mercy, will give me opportunities to redeem myself.

I want to be respectful to my brothers and sisters in Christ, but I also want to stand up for my brothers and sisters in Christ. And as I’ve dwelled and prayed over this, recalling those few seconds after he concluded the joke, the conviction in my heart tells me I should have done more. This person told two racist jokes in my presence, and, elder or not, I should’ve reacted better and differently, defending openly my beloved people of color. I should’ve fought for them and the heartache his flippant words caused.

Will you, person of color, also forgive me, please? I am sorry I failed you. Will you also pray for me? Pray I have the courage and wisdom to combat respectfully anyone who may be in a position of authority, whether officially or superficially, over me when needed? Pray I’m able to stand up for justice, love, and my fellow Christian brothers and sisters without faltering?

I can do better. More. I will. For you. For my children. For my grandchildren.

And for yours.

~*~

Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
BookBub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: A Letter to White Christians from a hurting heart

A Letter to White Christians
A guest post by Rev. Dr. Angelle M. Jones, DMin

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” –Micah 6:8 (NIV)

Dear White Christians,

To my sisters and brothers with whom I worship each week, I greet you. In the name of the One who has shown us through His Word, not only what is good, but also what the Lord requires of you. It is in this mighty name of Jesus, the One in whom you confess that we the people, all people, are created in the imago Dei.

I bring you greetings from your African-American brothers and sisters whose ancestors were stripped from their homeland. The slave catchers and traitors worked together devising a plan to accost free labor to build this great and free land.

To this end, some four hundred years ago the slaves who were unwillingly brought to this country, were envisioned only through the lens of the economic advancement of your forefathers. Instead of seeing my ancestral captives as fellow human beings, the slave masters were greed-filled opportunist in pursuit of financial gain. This devious plan originally designed to keep my ancestors shackled for generations to come, has been successful. Hundreds of years later, the same capitalistic structures continue to keep the descendants of slaves systemically and economically bound. In light of this historical truth, I ask you my brothers and sisters what exactly did the faith of your ancestors require for them to be considered good?

From the depths of my heart I painfully write this letter, sadly conflicted by the afflictions of my ancestors who worshipped in the hush harbors of Antebellum slave churches. In centuries past, slaves would meet in secluded buildings, or wooded areas far away from the plantation to secretly worship away from the master’s hearing or reach. Even more so, I write this letter with a heart that’s doubtful that much has changed.

Whether worshipping in hidden hush harbors or in churches under the tutelage of white slave masters in generations past, or in twenty-first century multicultural churches, Black worshippers in America have had to fight for the freedom to worship in our own way. Unfortunately, even in today’s sacred spaces, assimilation continues to be the preferred way to achieve diversity. Because a large number of so-called “multicultural” churches are led by White pastors and staff, we continue to adapt to your preferred style of preaching, prayer, or music.

With these truths in mind, I write in behalf of the thousands of Black brothers and sisters, who have supported multicultural churches, with their sweat equity, in the name of ministry. I speak directly to those pastors who after preaching the Holy Writ each Sunday, in the same manner that slave masters treated slaves, seemingly, many of you cannot find the words to say thank you.

Often ignoring the Black members who encourage you with a gospel style of worship that you say you love, or a hearty black church “Hallelujah” or “Amen” to support your preaching.

Although our different hues of brown skin glare at you from the choir stand, or the pew, it pains us when you descend from your lofty pulpit, and we are ignored. Just as the slaves had no real place except in the field and were at the beckoning of their master, in the same way Blacks in your churches are often locked out of your social circles. Rarely, are we invited to the table or to serve on your church staff. Sadly, we have learned the art of normalizing the pain of rejection just as we do in secular contexts, although it is real and has caused us to scatter. I ask you my White Christian brothers and sisters, is this all your faith requires of you today?

As I compare some of your oppressive ways to that of a slave master, I’m certain most of you, will emphatically disagree. I challenge you as Christ followers, and leaders in the church to consider what is good. Just as your Christian forefathers were complicit when my enslaved ancestors were brought to laboriously build this nation, it is with that very same mentality that some of you turn a blind eye as Black congregants build your church edifices with their giving today. The burden I bear in behalf of my Black and Brown brothers and sisters in many of your sacred spaces is both painful and traumatic. Yes, as hard as it is to believe, in the eyes of many of your African-American members, it remains true that the oppressive mindset of Christian slave masters of yesterday, continue to rule in multicultural churches today.

While entering into diverse places of worship, having been bombarded the week before with images of brutal killings of Black bodies by White police, what will it take for you to see that seated right next to you, your brothers and sisters are embodying the pain of watching those who look like them needlessly die?

Sadly, in churches all over America, during the most segregated hour of the week, White masters (pastors), preach messages defending this great country and its iconic flag, while the world watches melanin skinned bodies annihilated right before their eyes.

Once again, I ask, what does it mean for you who uphold this country as great, to act justly and to show mercy toward the oppressed?

My brothers and sisters, may this serve as a reminder of what the Lord says He requires. It is time to acknowledge the ills of America’s past justly, while embracing our present pain mercifully.

May we allow the recent events, as we are moved by the current of The Holy Spirit, and cause the Church to walk humbly with one another and with our God. May we usher in a revolution of His Kingdom, on Earth, as it is in Heaven.

God bless you.

Sincerely, your sister-in-Christ,
Rev. Dr. Angelle M. Jones, DMin

~*~
Author Bio:

“Inspiring and Motivating With the Power of Words” 

Angelle M. Jones believes that the power of words inspires, and motivate to bring about transformative change individually and collectively.

Angelle originally hails from Cleveland, Ohio. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in African-American studies from the University of Cincinnati. Angelle has a master’s degree in Theological Studies from Columbia Theological Seminary in Atlanta, Georgia and an earned Doctorate in Ministry on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, and his philosophy of The Beloved Community from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.

Her ministry career began as a staff member of the Northeastern Ohio Billy Graham Crusade in 1994. For twenty years, as founder and director of In The Spirit Ministries, Inc. she led teams on mission outreaches throughout the world. From 2007-2012 Angelle served as Missions Director of New Salem Missionary Baptist Church in Columbus, Ohio where she currently resides. Angelle is founder and director of GlobaLife Coaching and Consulting serving as a Life and Transformation Coach and Church Consultant.

In 2016 Angelle authored and self-published her first book, Happily Never After. Along with sharing words of hope by sharing her writings on her social media platforms, she has been published in Vantage Magazine which is a literary source for faculty, students and alumni of Columbia Theological Seminary, and Ready which is a cutting-edge online magazine addressing current events and trending socially relevant topics for women.

Angelle is the mother of an adult daughter. She is a grandmother and great-grandmother.

Sharing Our Stories: Saying "Yes" to God

When I Am Weak, God is Strong
A guest post by Kristen Rimer Terrette

I’m scared, y’all.

Have you ever committed to doing something you feel God desires from you, then as this very commitment approaches, you find yourself wanting to renege? That’s where I am.

I’m sitting in that tension, screaming inside, and with a racing heart, thinking, “God, what did I say yes too?! I’m not equipped! I’m not knowledgeable! I’m not enough!”

You see, not only have I agreed to participate in this Sharing Our Stories blog, but I’m beginning a church small group about racial reconciliation.

Me. A white girl in a predominantly white suburb (though changing more every day) of Georgia and, true to these statistics, one who attends a predominantly white church.

What can I do? Honestly, I’m part of the problem. Or at least I was, without a doubt, before I worked through the topics of the study I’m facilitating. Topics like awareness, lamentation, confession, forgiveness, and repentance. And even still, having done some internal work in my heart and having conversations with close friends and my husband over the years, I don’t know how to help people along on their journey toward acknowledgement, confession, healing, and growth—the very things that must happen for reconciliation to be realized. So many other are more qualified, even in my own church!

This was glaringly evident last Sunday when I was asked by a church member what made me want to start a group around racial unity. My first instinct was to cringe, because knowing a bit about this church member meant that, most assuredly, he’s further along in his journey toward correcting any previously held biases and prejudices. I felt inadequate immediately, not because of anything he did, but because of my own insecurities.

But after my initial recoil, words flowed easily. Something like (though probably not as eloquent as I’m remembering), “There are people of color my life who I care deeply for. These relationships have lasted for many, many years. They are family. They come to Thanksgiving and Christmas at my home. They celebrate and grieve with me. They love me, and I love them. And once my eyes were unveiled to the injustices and pain they’ve been through, I felt sheer sadness over their oppression and sorrow.”

Knowing my loved ones had dealt personally with racism and hatred, meant I could no longer live in oblivion. My heart aches for them and that heartache makes me want to face my own part in their pain and work toward learning, listening, and doing something to help tend to their wounds.

But is it enough? Is this my own ambition? And what difference could a group or a blog post make in this chaotic world? I’m so small. So weak.

In my quiet time, as I prayed over this, God reminded me of 2nd Corinthians, chapter 12. Here, Paul describes a vision from God where he pleads three times for the Lord to take away the “thorn of his flesh” (2 Corinthians 12:7 NIV). In verse nine, we read God’s response to Paul’s cries, “‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” The verse continues with Paul’s acceptance of his challenges, “Therefore I (Paul) will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

It was like God bonked me on the head and added a playful eye roll. My role in these commitments didn’t matter. My insufficiencies only release God’s power as I walk along His path for me. I cried (recently) for Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and my loved ones who I worry about facing brutality. But, also for Eric Garner, Tamir Rice … and the list goes on … I’d told God in these moments I would say yes to whatever He asked me of me.

And that was the only step He needed.

He wants my obedience, because my weaknesses aren’t a problem for Him. They only make His power shine perfectly. He’ll do the work. He’ll bring the people to the small group. He’ll bring the words for our blog posts. He’ll bring readers who are ready to go out and “do” good for Him in the world. His power is all we need to spark change.

I love that Paul adds in 2 Corinthians 12:10,“That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

What step are you afraid to take but feel God asking of you? One where you feel ill-equipped for, but a passion for the cause has been stirred in your heart that you can’t deny? 

Guess what? God put that passion there. He’s ready to come in power. In fact, that’s the only way He can come. So, take the step of obedience and delight in that feeling of weakness, because when you are weak, God says, because of Him and His Holy Spirit, you are strong.

With all our obedient steps combined and with God by our side in power, we can make a difference and inspire a change of heart.

~*~
Author Bio:

Kristen's passionate about storytelling and helping people take their next steps in their relationship with Jesus. 

She lives forty-five minutes outside of Atlanta, GA. where she served as a Children's Ministry Director for many years. With the support of her husband and two children, she now stays home writing fiction and non-fiction.

She also serves on the women’s leadership team at her local church and writes for Crosswalk and Wholly Loved Ministries. You can check out her articles and novels at www.kristenterrette.com.

~*~
Connect with Kristen:
Website - www.kristenterrette.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/authorkristenterrette/
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KTerrette
Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/kterrette/
Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16252020.Kristen_Terrette
Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kristen-terrette
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/kterrette2/

Sharing Our Stories: Introducing the writers

Introducing Dr. Angelle M. Jones, in her words:

When I think of the weighted albatross pressing down upon the necks and backs of my brothers and sisters wearing melanated skin, I hear a cry deep down in my soul.

I hear a Voice in the wilderness calling, “Who will change the narrative?” The story that has been born in pain. The narrative that has been painted by the trauma inflicted upon the ancestors of those still struggling to overcome. When will the oppressed overcome? When will the pain of yesterday transition into the hope that the dark past has taught us? The Voice calls again, “Who will change the narrative?”

I chose to answer the Voice, with the loud stroke of my pen: I will change the narrative. I will write to change the collective narrative of shame. I will write to change, the individual narrative of guilt. I will write to change, the narratives of the emotional scars left in the hollow belly of the slave ships. I will write to change, the narratives of the lashing straps beating the dignity from Black men like they were created to be their White brother’s personal whipping posts. When I write, I will ask the hard questions, “Will the narrative of the strange black and brown fruit still found hanging low from trees today, ever change?”

When letters become words, and words become paragraphs, and paragraphs become books, that’s how the narrative will change. I will use this platform to become a scribe of hope, using written words to speak light into darkness, and to bring change to the pain. I will take the words that have historically been used to intimidate and cast fear upon the oppressed to change the narrative. The words I write will reverse the curse. The words I write will hopefully inspire the reader to share the Light with others. My prayer is that the chain reaction of the words I pen will help change the narrative.

As a woman of color who has journaled my story for over forty years, I pray God’s grace and resilience will shine through the cross I and my Black brothers and sisters bear daily. For this cause, I will write mine, yours, and whoever will share their story. 

I will use words to shed light on the truth for those who have been known to project the lies and deceit of who the oppressed really are. I will write to open the eyes and minds of those searching for a place to contain the words of the thriving, striving, and surviving of a people who have suffered long enough. 

I will turn the years of hurtful words into helpful words. I will turn hateful words into words of love. I will use His Word to change the narrative of injustice and racial division into a sacred container filled with stories of God’s compassion and mercy. 

My prayer to God is: Send me, “I will change the narrative.”

~*~
Author Bio:

“Inspiring and Motivating With the Power of Words” 

Angelle M. Jones believes that the power of words inspires, and motivate to bring about transformative change individually and collectively. 

Angelle originally hails from Cleveland, Ohio. She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in African-American studies from the University of Cincinnati. Angelle has a master’s degree in Theological Studies from Columbia Theological Seminary in Atlanta, Georgia and an earned Doctorate in Ministry on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, and his philosophy of The Beloved Community from United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio.

Her ministry career began as a staff member of the Northeastern Ohio Billy Graham Crusade in 1994. For twenty years, as founder and director of In The Spirit Ministries, Inc. she led teams on mission outreaches throughout the world. From 2007-2012 Angelle served as Missions Director of New Salem Missionary Baptist Church in Columbus, Ohio where she currently resides. Angelle is founder and director of GlobaLife Coaching and Consulting serving as a Life and Transformation Coach and Church Consultant. 

In 2016 Angelle authored and self-published her first book, Happily Never After. Along with sharing words of hope by sharing her writings on her social media platforms, she has been published in Vantage Magazine which is a literary source for faculty, students and alumni of Columbia Theological Seminary, and Ready which is a cutting-edge online magazine addressing current events and trending socially relevant topics for women.

Angelle is the mother of an adult daughter. She is a grandmother and great-grandmother.

Suicide is NOT the answer, GOD is the Answer

Don't Give UP, LOOK up! No matter how tough times get, God still loves you and will ALWAYS be there for you. If you're too depressed to pray, that's okay because He knows what's weighing on your heart and mind before you do. 

If you need to talk over the phone to someone, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available 24/7. Call 1-800-273-8255 and if you prefer to text, the Crisis Text Line is also available: https://www.crisistextline.org

My thoughts

Pain isn’t pretty. Pain isn’t always articulate and to tell a person who’s disenfranchised, marginalized, discriminated against, oppressed and depressed to “properly articulate” their pain in an article or even a blog post is not right because when you’re going through all that, you’re not going to be articulate and it’s not going to be pretty.

~A thought by Alexis A. Goring

More to come on this topic...stay tuned!