This is my attempt to tell the world... or my 7 followers on here, about how listening to God is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but also the greatest thing, every single time.
When my plan, my comfort-ability, my fears, are all silenced by the One who knows best.
I was excited, I was anxious... I was taking deep breaths to see how this would make or break me. I really wanted to dare God to prove He was right in this... but I know better than to do that these days.
Side note: If you didn't already know I am THAT parent who shows pictures of her kids at all the get together's and tells endless stories she thinks are hilarious that no one else understands out of context but keeps telling them anyway. Only thing is, I'm not even a parent so....
On Friday night it was when the "original" four requested I come into their hotel room and just chill. Their cracks at each other, their reminiscing of when they were younger, and their pure giggles gave me peace.
On Saturday night I sat in Granny & Granddaddy's living room surrounded by kids I love so dearly, friends & family that have poured into me over the years. Stories were shared about how cruel white people had been to my own adopted family in Tennessee. The kids went from goofy to quiet real quick when Granddaddy told a story about when their Mr. Marcus had a cross burning in his front yard in a neighborhood not far from where I went to college in South Knoxville.
It hit us all in different ways.
We were coming off of 3 days in Alabama and Georgia for a Civil Rights Tour. Some may call us crazy for loading up a van full of teenagers and taking them to places like the Equal Justice Initiative, 16th Street Baptist Church, The Center for Civil and Human Rights, Edmund Pettus Bridge, and other major memorials or museums. We ventured through Nashville, Montgomery, Selma, Birmingham, Atlanta, and Knoxville. This is what we do. We love these kids just enough, and are just crazy enough to not only want them to grow to be leaders in their communities, but actually make moves for them to grow and stretch and experience life beyond their street corner, so they can do just that.
We went through a lunch counter simulation that is hard to explain if you haven't done it yourself or if you are unaware of what that experience was like for so many. Moments later I found myself watching a film on the Freedom Riders surrounded by my black and brown boys. I watched them wince and shake their heads at how people were treated and how they knew me, their very white Ms. Chloe, even being in that room with them was a big deal.
The tears just started to flow.
The history is heavy yes, but the present...?
I find myself holding my breath and praying constantly that more hashtags, more bodies, more crying mothers would not find their way to my phone, desk, or heart anymore.
I want the present to matter and influence and change how their future will look.
That is my why I guess.
And that is how I can be confident I am exactly where I need to be in this space of time.
Because it could be anywhere, just as long as it is somewhere, and it is bringing purpose and passion and prayer to the forefront.
They hugged me and I just remember telling them over and over how I loved them.
"We know. We love you too."
Our last night we slept in a building I know very well. It was filled with kids, just not the kids I was used to being there. And somehow, amidst the slowness I felt, a little off center, J's request to tuck them all in sealed the deal on what I already knew... what He has always known.
There is a place on my instagram that says, "I love people, cities, and trap beats." I hope people can tell from how I live my life that loving God is a given... I also hope that they can see this choice was hard, but each an every breath I take in this new chapter gets a little easier.
Here's to the continued fight for Civil Rights & late nights with the kids that feel like family.
