Thursday, April 15, 2010

Commentary: The Flaming Keyboard

The other day my cousin asked me if my keyboard was on fire.

I told him, no, the flames are out.

But the fire in my soul to speak up is not.

I looked at some things that are happening in our nation, in our schools, and in my city, and just got angry.  It is not okay to bully anyone.  Relentless tormenting of another is wrong.  The young girl who killed herself saw no way out.  The wife who stays sees no way out.  The kid on the corner with a gun sees no way out.

Then I went to my favorite coffeeshop to bask in the sunshine, sip a latte, and read my LARGE print Bible.  I let the wisdom of the Provers was over me like a much needed shower.  And just as I was filling up, an acquaintance walked up and asked to join me for coffee.

She and I shared our spiritual connection, hunger, rebellion, and thirst for doing.  It had to be  'God' moment because this mother and I both have children at the same school and never talked matters of faith.  I think we both were tired of the hypocrisy that has been rearing its ugly head all round us like the spring weeds that are popping up with the budding grass.

The summer is going to be hot, in a lot of ways.

One of my friends in my Bridges Group said it is because there are a lot of scared white people out there worried about the sins of the fathers creeping up for payment, retribution.  We talked about the atmosphere. And I said we needed them to speak out, to not let this fear be legislated, otherwise we would be back in a dark place as a country.

There are no isolated incidents.  It is all tied together.  Little bursts here and there.  And it all boils down to mans inhumanity to man, ignoring the golden rule, forgetting that throwing stones can hurt, and that we are not without sin.

We are also not without hope.  That was the ending of my coffeeshop conversation.  And my Bridges meeting.  There is hope.  There are enough people around to stand up, stand with, and stand down.

Today, the keyboard is just simmering.

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