From National Independence Day to 3 nights of National Trauma...I'm different!

Monday night, I'm at a park with over 2,500 attendees at a 4th of July festival listening to music, playing kid games with my two younger children, enjoying the evening air... residents, families and the local police force; smiling, laughing and enjoying one another. The evening ended with a lovely fireworks show and the Police department making a kind and inviting invitation for all to join them on the 9th for another event, to be hosted by the police department. People clapped and cheered; apparently this was an event the local residents have been looking forward to for some time.

NO ONE COULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT 72 HOURS LATER.... that scene, that narrative, that atmosphere which was so peaceful, would shift so drastically and traumatically.

My first reaction, when I saw the videos of #AltonSterling being killed, was I slowly picked up my phone... texted my oldest son (6' 3", beautifully dark chocolate, solid frame, with a lil urban swag) and simply wrote "Please Call Me".

Even though, I knew my son was physically OK, I still felt that ambient threat over his life, as a young black man in our nation. In that moment, I needed to hear his voice, and be reassured he knew, I love him.

But worse then the above tension... Friday morning, I text him again, "Call me!" This time my tone was different. Tuesday, I just needed to say "hello. You good? Love you!"  But Friday... I needed to say "Son, have you been watching the news? Are you paying attention to the News? BE CAREFUL! Seriously, Daniel... BE CAREFUL!"

I believe without a shadow of a doubt in GOD as my provider and protector. I know GOD is real; but so is evil, hatred, racism, radical extreme behavior... and that any of the men killed could have been my son executed like a dog in the street, falsely accused and on someone's hit list because he is beautifully black.

Yet, more worse was the thought, if his life ended like that of  #trayvonmartin or #PhilandoCastille the first thing they would do, is pull up that fact that my son was arrested several years ago, and use that to justify his execution, and deem it a "justifiable" shoot... even though they had no 'precog' knowing of his name, record, upbringing or background before shots were let off.

And even worse was, after three days of national trauma, #BlackLivesMatter (an organization that fundamentally advocates for Dignity, Justice, and Respect for all black lives.) gets blamed, for how it is we got here - the morning after the #Dallasshooting; as if years of historical, recorded, tracked, researched and video-taped accounts of hatred, racism, systematic oppression and radical extreme behavior were just a few bad grapes in the bunch. I'm scratching my head.

The #Dallasshooting is deplorable and disgusting by all accounts. 

That third night, my faith drove me into deep prayer. The kind of prayer where every thing you do is a prayer. Even while I type this I'm praying. I have been in deep prayer for the families and community in Dallas, #AltonSterling family, #PhilandoCastille family and others because incidents like these become triggers for families who have been through eerily similar traumatic experiences. I've been in deep prayer for my family, community, and country; pleading Lord have Mercy. I've been in deep prayer to hear God on what the Sermon will be on Sunday. I've been in deep prayer because my faith tells me, that Prayer is the way to maintain hope, peace, love and a righteous tongue in times like these. I've been in deep prayer, to know what I will do and be next? Because, it can't be business as usual. After 3 nights of National Trauma...

I'm different.

In a very focused and clear way, type of different. The kind a different that concretizes on a new level ones call, life mission and purpose.

If poetry was my gift - I would write something like "I've been baptized in the waters of America's senseless blood shed, and I can see clearly now..." that kind of different. (but i'm not a poet and that's all I got for this haiku).

- N -