Back in the summer of 2020, when the world was in full pandemic panic mode and after the murder of George Floyd, I would often text with a friend who I knew was a safe person to lament my fears and worries with about the future of society. We both watched in horror as the evil of racism and bigotry slunk out of the shadows and paraded itself proudly for everyone to see. We asked each other how our wonderful country had sunk so low and then were equally ashamed of ourselves when we discovered how protected and blind we had been. This evil was nothing new. It had been thriving and poisoning the hearts of God’s children for generations. But we had been protected from the hardship, pain, and horror it inflicts because we never had to worry about it affecting us. Married, white, Christian women with financial security are nearly immune from the evil of racism.
We asked ourselves what we could do, if we were part of the problem, and if anything we said or did really made a difference in the big picture. We did what every other white woman seemed to be doing at the time; we started a social justice book club at our church. It felt cliche but at the very least we decided that if we knew better we could do better and we admitted that we had a lot to learn.
Over the past year and a half, we have read some great books by authors of color. Our little group has been open to hearing difficult truths and learning things about ourselves that have, at times, stung but been essential lessons. We realized that we should never stop growing and learning.
As a child, I was taught a song about the fruit of the Spirit. Continue reading at The Glorious Table
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