George Floyd was murdered about two weeks ago.
I went into an outrage like many folks in our nation. I was so upset; I felt myself getting sick. My back hurt, my head hurt, I could barely sleep, my tooth chipped, I was binge eating, and I'm sure the last three were strongly related. Either way, while praying on how I would raise my boys in such a cruel world, the LORD softly whispered, "Chile, them having a sick mama amid a pandemic ain't it." It was all I needed to remember the power of taking care of myself while advocating. I quickly forgot the ebb and flow of the work. I had gotten so comfortable in the cozy and chill life that the pandemic had afforded us. Yes, there were tough moments - learning curves - pre and during Corona.
But all in all, it's been relatively cushy. Ahmaud, Breonna, and George was a quick reminder of racism. The injustice didn't stop just because I decided to close my eyes for two seconds. That said, I jumped in without taking all the precautions. A prime example is amplifying my Word time and genuinely caring for myself so that I don't burn out or say something that could scuff out my witness. I've been turning to my phone an unhealthy amount and ways that feel idol-like. I know I need to take a break.
Yesterday, in family prayer, I asked for forgiveness for saying or doing anything that was not kind to my boys and hubby. Neiko raised his hand, "Mommy, you didn't say anything, but you didn't talk to us like you normally do - you were just on your phone." He's right. Today, I savagely limited my phone time. It was the most peaceful day that I've had in a very long time. It felt authentic to me. I used to limit phone use profoundly. And so doing it felt right. I want to advocate within the community, but I also want to dig deep to figure out how to use my voice. That digging requires solitude. I'm going to continue to advocate and use my voice while also seeking peace and pursuing it (Psalm 34:14).