This is not a drinking post.
I keep thinking of the two men shot yesterday and the day before. The ten officers shot tonight. Everyone these individuals left behind: The poor little girls in the back seat of the vehicle while their mother live-streamed the murder of her partner. The children served lunches by a good man who knew them by name. The 14 year old son sobbing into his mother’s shoulder as she did a press release on the death of her husband. The people on the streets of Dallas tonight, unable to get home, knowing there are active shooters out there. The families of the injured and deceased Dallas police officers.
I sit here feeling helpless. Helpless for the black men killed for no reason. For the officers, protecting peaceful protest of these men’s deaths. For the fact that there is no such thing as a “peaceful protest,” this day in age. The guilt I feel, that I’ve never faced oppression so deep, based on something so shallow. The guilt that I want to do something about it, but I’m SCARED.
There is no answer. But there has to be an answer. The hate has got to stop. We have got to come together. We have got to parent our children better; raise them to be kind, trust, have faith in their brothers and sisters, be inclusive, be loving. In the same breath, I want to fiercely protect them, shield them, never let them leave my sight.
I am on my knees tonight, giving it to God. Praying for all of them. Praying for an answer. Praying for courage to do something. Praying for a solution that I can offer to help. Praying for the safety of my children. Praying for the safety of our citizens. Praying for the revival of love.