BY SADIE CURTIN | July 13, 2020
Disclaimer: I am privileged; white, educated, employed. I am hurting and I acknowledge my limitations and ability to share solely from my perspective. This lament is a leap of faith and an attempt at solidarity. I own its imperfections and shortcomings.
Hear me, O God.
Hear me through my stream of tears.
Hear me, O God, because this feeling of hopelessness requires I turn to You.
Hear not just me, O God, but all of the angry, tender, tired tears streaming down the faces of many in our little corner of Your universe.
Hear me, O God, and I ask not for a reply, but simply that we may share tears together.
Hear me, Sophia—Wisdom of God—I rely on you to guide my mind, heart, mouth, and hands.
My tears stream down for reasons beyond my full comprehension…
I weep because people are murdered—unjustly, brutally.
I weep because the reason for death is no mystery but one seen at first glance.
I weep because Black Lives Matter, but are not honored as such.
I weep because replaceable things seem to hold greater value than irreplaceable human beings.
I weep because the voices and bodies of Black Americans are far too often silenced and assaulted.
I weep because hate, bigotry, discrimination, and racism run so deep it seems impossible to change.
I weep because the family, friends, neighbors, colleagues, and communities of George, Breonna, Ahmaud, and many more are burdened with tears without their consent.
Sophia, are you weeping too? My heart tells me you are. I pray to fully trust that You weep as I, and so many, do when injustice ensues; when injustice seems to be the default.
As I wipe away my tears, I desire a revolution rooted in Your overwhelming love.
I desire to hear the voices of the Black men and women who have been unheard for centuries.
I desire to use my privilege as a tool for advocacy and action, not to perpetuate the problem.
I desire to be called out when my thoughts are self-centered, my words ignorant, or my actions complacent.
I desire to grow in the empathy, kindness, understanding, and patience that the work of solidarity requires of me.
And when I fail, I pray You breathe on me a spirit of persistence and resiliency.
I believe in a revolution that brings forth a Kin-dom so beautiful it exceeds comprehension. In the depths of the truest, most beautiful part of my soul You have planted a knowing of what Your love can do. I listen for a whisper of how you want me to love those who society marginalizes and those wailing in despair as I sit with the aftermath of puffy eyes and a heavy heart.
Sophia, I admire you and cherish your work in my life. I rely on your presence to those most in need of your comfort and compassion, as I am limited. Be with me; be with all in need of You. For the longings of my heart not fully expressed I pray you hear them.
[Read the companion reflection, Black Lives Matter: A Psalm of Lament and Anger, here.]