Illuminating Hope

Today I'm excited to announce that Aubrey has won a copy of Time Off. And I'm grateful to be celebrating another birthday and our 29th wedding anniversary 

despite the deep darkness that overshadows the start of June of 2020.

It's actually really scary right now, amidst the chaos and the confusion 

of the unrest and uncertainty of these turbulent times.

In fact, it often feels like we're holding on by a thread.

An incredible fragile thread that could snap at any time.

A thread that probably needs to break, 

to expose what we haven't been talking about.

To unveil what we need to be talking about.

A problem that's way bigger than any pandemic.

And incredibly more dangerous. And ominous.

I talk with a friend who tells me that he has been

harassed in his own neighborhood simply because of

the color of his skin. I get sick to my stomach

as I listen, as I hear him share how a neighbor stopped him

in front of his own house to ask him what he's doing

driving through their neighborhood. Just last week.

I can hardly type the words. 

How can racial targeting still be a thing? I wonder.

More importantly, what unchecked biases do I carry?

What do I need to change to do better?

How can I be a brighter light?

How can I shine hope in this darkness?

What needs to be said that I've yet to say?

Because if we never talk about a thing,

how will it ever change?

I'm going to begin by examining

the freedoms I take for granted

each and every day.

I'm going to initiate courageous conversations

about how to uphold the rights we value and hold dear:

Life.

Liberty.

The pursuit of happiness.

Equality.

Equity.

Love.

I'm going to pray fervently for wisdom and guidance

so that I can be an integral part of a peaceful solution

and not a silent part of the ongoing oppression.

I'm signing up for equity training.

And instead of saying, "I don't see color,"

I'm going to do a better job at

 seeing, honoring, celebrating color.

And I'm opened to other suggestions.

There is light; there's always light. 

It's dim right now.

Really dim.

But it's there.

We simply can't let the fires of violence

be the only light we see.

Thank you for joining me in illuminating hope.