"this sucks"

I'm currently sitting on the bus that takes kids home after Wednesday night church. There are only two left, and I'll be dropped off back at my car. 

Pretty sure we covered all of east Knoxville in 30 minutes, and that's with seven of them getting off on the same stop! 

They lost a brother this week.
They lost a friend.
They lost a classmate, neighbor, cousin.

And until I had a ball player twice my size tell me "this sucks" I had no idea.
I had no idea how hard this would be.
I've seen death. I've suffered loss. But I've watched a lot more people suffer and die in surrounding communities, other than my own.

I had no idea. And my heart hurts. Because I am not the solution. And that is hard.

I'm pretty convinced I suck at offering the real solution too. Cause let's be real. The little white girl offering Jesus after you just lost your family isn't something I would want either.

                                                                               -

After having so many nightmares about identifying the body, you start to hate sleep. Or maybe sleep hates me. That is something I fear. That I haven't impacted the way I want. Or the way they think I have. I'm too late. It's impossible. They can't change. I don't have what it takes. And by now the Devil has made himself comfortable. Like he belongs inside me more than I do.

Push him out. Start over.
The sun wants to kiss me good morning, but getting up seems way harder than normal.
God is good. But how would they know unless I show them in the midst of all our own chaos.
Be strong.
I hear the words, and feel my body moving, I just don't feel the connection between the two.
I hate being robotic.

                                                                                -

Not everything is well.
Reality looks like the songs being prerecorded.
The face was filtered, and wiped of tears just moments before that picture got all the likes.
The meals were missed.
The prayers are hands clawing for something that looks like a silver lining.
I don't believe less.
I just have a lot more reasons to agree with his statement.
"This sucks"

The story goes on.
My eyes look through the grief like rain, searching for stars. They are still there. They never left.
Neither did You.
Joy.
My heart still beats, because this is their broken story, and I am their writer.
One day, they will see beyond their struggle, grief, rain. And they too will see the stars.

I Won't Be Put On Mute

If it's not one thing, it's another.

Oppression.

Opposition.

Others hateful words.

Failures are adding up, and the victories are small and few.

I have more doubts in what I am doing here, and if it's worth it.

Sin.

Satan.

Selling me a campaign, to believe more in evil, than the Holy. 

The second we catch a break and think we are doing something good, people want to step on it, and remind us that, we are the minority.

I want to say "yeah, we are... were the only ones living like Christ." But that would just be real petty ish wouldn't? So WE have to keep it classy... cause WE will be the ones sent to the office. 

Bull.

There is a reason people chose to just be silent. 

They are sick of their voices being put on mute.

News flash. 

I won't be put on mute. 

That's why I'm here. On earth.

To be the badass with a mega phone as a mouth. 

Refusing to let the minority, the children, the broken, the forcibly mute, the urban, the refugees, the people of God, be forgotten. 

Sometimes I really suck at my job.

Sometimes I get caught up in the little things, things that are put in front of me as a distraction. 

Seemingly good things, people, events, etc.

At the end of the day though, they are part of the problem.

This week my heart was ripped apart, 

Over and over again.

Peoples voices weren't heard.

Words were put in mouths that didn't belong. 

Loved ones were too far away, broken.

Yet, I still see the light.

Because that's the kind of hold He has on me,

I just wonder if you have that same feeling... or if you've somehow put Him on mute too.

This isn't a list of hate filled observations, or a statement of how I have been knocked down and wounded. 

This is a battle cry. 

And I have called roll. 

Seen who will measure up. 

To the ones who played spy, only to know where the Achilles heel was.

Remember what you chose. 

Remember whose voice you tried to put on mute. 

News flash.

I won't be put on mute. 

the sun still rose

this is the part of the story people don't want you to know about.

the struggle.
the parts that get rough and dirty.
the sin.

this is the part of the story where I get quiet.

because this isn't a victory... yet.
the potential is there, sure.

I have to remind myself to breathe in and out.
this part of the story wants me to forget.

this is the part of the story where the ghosts are real, and the people are fake.

but the sun still rose today.
and that gives me hope that joy lies in the pages unseen.