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When the Pen Stops

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I stopped writing everyday.

That seems like such a strange thing for a writer to admit.

The words on paper came in a different way. Theological studies took up two years of my word counts.

Then the cultural shifts in the country, sociopolitical shifts, and the sheer amount of racial hatred that has been spewed since November 2016 - rendered me almost speechless.

I tweeted, I posted.

But I stopped writing thoughtful pieces.

Why?

There was a part of me that had a sense of "I told you so" and "What do you want me to say now?"

I couldn't reconcile the many times I was told that I was being too political or offending someone because I pointed out the obvious racial tone of the country. I just put the pen down. For a time.

What I say now is that we must not be silent.

We can not just let the children be victims of a wave of hate.

How do we speak and act

One way is what I am doing now, I picked back up my pen.

And made it start again.

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