What a terrible week of the worst things.
I keep writing and deleting. Drafting and scrapping. Typing and backspacing. I don’t know what to say. Fear is all around and that makes me question everything, especially the next word out of my mouth.
In that way that I do when it’s all too much, I’ve chosen one person for my thoughts, one angle for my empathy. I read about one of the officers killed last night, a brand new husband of just two weeks. I cried for his bride today, horrendously widowed days after she became his at all.
And I’ve cried for my friends raising children whose skin makes them a target, for my fellow moms who protect their children under their whiteness with the knowledge that it isn’t enough.
Fear is all around. I feel it.
I read all of the ‘Do not be afraid’ Scriptures, but I just don’t like being told what to do. I feel guilty for not obeying, for not feeling faith and peace.
Here’s what I know. Every time God says, “Don’t be afraid,” it’s only the first part of his sentence. Every time he reminds me not to fear, he gives me a reason why.
“Do not be afraid, for I am your shield, your very great reward.”
“Do not be afraid. God has heard.”
“Do not be afraid, for I am with you.”
“Do not be afraid, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
And so I am claiming both halves of the sentence. If I do my part, please do yours, God.
I will not fear, because you are a shield around me. You can protect and restore my children, my community, the people of this nation and the world.
I will not fear, for you have heard the things I say out loud and the cries I groan alone.
I will not fear, because you are with me in ways I cannot understand.
I will not fear, because you are with me wherever I go.
Lord Jesus, come quickly. And if you choose not to come yet, if you choose not to deliver us from this, then please show us you are near.
All my love to you,
Dallas and Louisiana,
And to you,
moms and dads,
husbands and wives,
and everyone afraid.