"More Mercy"

It's one in the morning and I'm settling in to write because I have something to say. I could be up this late because I just finished watching season 1 of Downton Abby, or because of the excitement of a good friend getting engaged and asking me to walk along side her as a brides maid. These would be great reasons. But instead I'm up because of an incident that caught me completely off guard and has saddened my heart.

Tonight, we had our Black History celebration at church. Yes, you should be sorry you missed it. None the less, I was on my way to choir rehearsal and realized I forgot my phone. Being that I was not but a mile away from the house I decided to turn around and get it, I had guests coming that may need to communicate, I also have a car I need to take in to the mechanic, life is better and I feel safer with my phone. Usually when I forget something at the house (which seems to be a bit more lately) I have a great spot to do a uturn. However today there was another car wanting to turn my way and a police officer behind him. Maybe not a great day for a uturn. So I turned down the street that was a culdisac anyway and headed back toward my house. As I passed the officer he looked intently at me. I instinctively over analyzed my driving; hands at 10 and 2, seat belt on, blinker, stop 1-2-3 go, 35 mph. I was doing everything right. I turned and the officer turned right along with me. I stopped and he stopped. Again, I turned and he turned. I turned into my subdivision and in my rear view mirror I saw him continue to drive past after the car that now separated us passed. I parked the car, ran in to get my phone and ran back out, stopping to say hi to no one.

Pulling back off of my street and onto the street leading out of my subdivision, to what should my eyes behold but that same officer turning into my subdivision. It struck me as odd, but then again their job is to patrol and make sure neighborhoods are safe. Again, I recheck everything, make sure I'm doing everything right. Yep. We pass each other and again he looks at me longer than he should (as he very well should be watching the road). In my rear view mirror a daughter of the people I live with has pulled up behind me, but behind her I can see that police officer turning around in the first driveway available. It's then that it dawns on me, he's following me. Again, I turn and he turns, I stop and he stops.

By this point I've gone over and over in my mind what could possibly be wrong that would make this man follow me. Updated plates and tags? Check. Clear back window? Check. No car clings of drug dealer or child abductor. With my list dwindling of why he could be following me. It crashed down on me like bricks. I'm in Town and Country and I'm black (for all he knows). I believe I've been racially profiled.

I've heard so many of these stories from black men in my life, that end with a ticket or jail or abusive language or treatment. And though my story ends with me leaving this officer in my rear view mirror driving down the highway, I too feel unfailrly treated for possibly no other reason than the color of my skin.

What can I even begin to say about this? I'm broken hearted and speechless. I hurt for those that have been treated poorly and judged according to their skin color. I feel naive for the times I refused to believe this was still happening when people would tell me their stories. And I'm angry. I'm angry at the ignorance of this officer. I'm angry and annoyed that I live in West County. I'm angry that more black people don't move to west county, but then I'm angry that if black people moved to this community, this community would move somewhere else. I'm angry that for all the change that's been made this stuff still happens. And I'm angry that it ever even crossed my mind that he would follow me because I am a woman of color.

How I long for heaven! How I long for Jesus to come and set right what has been wronged. How I long for Him to come and break down every wall that divides. How I long to live in a world that is truly reconciled to one another. Oh I long for it! But my hope is that yes this is a future promise but it is also a present promise. He is presently tearing down walls of hostility. He is currently redeeming those that have been wronged. He is rescuing the oppressed. Even now! So my prayer is that my anger and hurt move me to action, that action being to pray. Pray for communities like mine that literally build gates around themselves so as to keep out the "unwelcomed". Pray for reconciliation to occur in their lives and in mine. How we need it. How we need Him!

"More mercy."

defending delilah

Delilah was rockin tonight! Let me just go ahead and tell you I, as a grown woman, reserve the right to tune into Delilah Love Someone Tonight whenever I want. Why would you, you ask. I understand this question. I don't even judge you for it, because I myself was there once too. But I've come to a certain age and life stage where sometimes I just need to hear some classic love songs. Or as the case tonight KDHX wasn't playing anything good, nor any other station for that matter, and so my fingers did the walking on over to the preprogrammed Delilah station. Now, don't let that word preprogrammed fool you. It's not like I listen to Delilah every night. Just occasionally. Enough so that when I want to hear some cheesy story or song I don't want to have to remember what station she's on. So a little preprogramming never hurts.

I almost did the switch up on her because of the lame story introducing the song but then I heard the velvet voice of Bill Medley of whom I picture as Patrick Swazye himself singing to me and knew it was going to be a good night. So a little outrageous belting it out to The Time of My Life and I was set. My joy filled response to the next song however completely threw me and I might be entering an interesting musical phase of life. Hall and Oats You Make My Dreams. If you were driving next to me, you may have thought I was having a seizure as I danced like this song was the anthem of my high school prime. AMAZING! I couldn't even stop.

Now, I must confess to you that this morning I pulled a muscle in my shoulder. You don't need to the know the details of the event except to say it involved me, a pair of new tights, and a lot of wiggling to get in them. Yadda, yadda, yadda I have a sore shoulder blade, neck, and clavicle. Not even the searing pain of these sore muscles could stop me from dancing like it was 1999 to Hall and Oats. That says something.

So, in honor of ; my dear friends adopting for the first time, coffee, a man I've never met, and Stephanie whom I think of every time I hear Hall and Oats, here's my newest obsession!