Two nights ago I laid awake terrified. After reading accounts of horror in multiple cities like Baghdad, Kenya, Orlando, Cincinnati, Dallas, Minneapolis, and others, I couldn’t escape fear, not even in my dreams.
For some of us, these atrocities feel a million miles away, for others, it confuses our idea of freedom and racial equality. For most, we want to do something but what on earth do we do? For me, I’m chasing off nightmares of my five-year-old son being tortured because he’s black. As hard as I try I can never save him. Evil wins every time in my dreams. In the morning I wake up from a night of tossing and turning to find my cheery boy cuddled up between my husband and me.
The truth is, my nightmare has been another mama’s reality.
With stories of loss and grief filling up our news feeds I’ve found comfort and hope in the 91st Psalm. I’ve read it about 15 times a day for the past few days. I’m speaking it over myself, my son, the mother’s who’ve lost their beloved children, the sons and daughters who lost a daddy and mommy, the black community, the people of Baghdad, Kenya, and you. I’m praying we surrender to a place of peace. I’m praying we surrender to a love that demands respect, kindness, gentleness, and patience. One that is strong, brave, and true. One that doesn’t indulge in patterns and sordid histories of oppression and outright violence.
Psalm 91 encourages us when our newsfeed makes us want to cry,
1 Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.[a]
2 I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
3 Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling,
10 no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 “Because he[b] loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call on me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life I will satisfy him
and show him my salvation.”
My only hope, my shelter, my refuge, is Jesus. I can’t take the pain and loss without finding myself curled up at his feet. If you are a follower of Jesus you too are watching brothers and sisters experience pain that was never part of the plan.
With the grace and encouragement we see threaded in Psalm 91 may we go in the name of love, stand in the gap for those who are oppressed, and love without boundaries. We can. We must.
For more informative and interesting articles that shed light on race relations check out this one from Relevant Magazine and this one, too.