It’s taken me some time to process how to accurately articulate what the past week has been like in our family and in our home. And to be honest I don’t think I will ever be able to convey the way my spirit cries out within me.. the way my soul so deeply grieves the state of our society and the world we live in. The tears we have cried or the heaviness that fills our home. The anger I have felt though justified, has not been wholly righteous, or emotionally controlled, and so I have reserved my words thus far. Until I felt I could effectively communicate what God is speaking to my heart in the grief and desperation that lays itself so heavy over this nation and the world.

And so this is what I know and want to make clear up front. I am a white woman who experiences countless privileges solely due to the color of my skin. I am able to acknowledge this because it’s not a debatable question it is an unequivocal fact.

I also see that though my heart grieves beyond expression for my family, friends, brothers and sisters who’s lives are deemed less valuable than mine solely because their skin is of a darker complexion, my desperation, disgust, and utter brokenness is and will always be secondary to theirs. No matter how I hurt, I will never know the depth of despair or weight of a black man or woman who has to navigate a world where they have been told that they are less than. That their breath is literally stolen as they beg us to acknowledge that they too are worthy of life.

Tim and I are an inter-racial couple, a black American man and a white Canadian woman, raising a beautiful bi-racial, and dual nationality baby boy. We find ourselves in the unique position to lead a church with two very different but equally incredible expressions and communities. One wonderfully diverse and the other predominantly African American - and might I say beautifully so.

What I know without question is that God does not look down and favor one community over the other. He does not pour out more peace, more love, more grace, on one community or group of people over the other. He does not favor one race over another. He does not show up for big community over small. He doesn’t choose between His children. He loves each of us equally. No more. No less. No matter what we look like.

I have had the exceptional fortune to journey life with people who do not look like me. Most of my life I have had friends and now family who are a different color than me. My parents were warm and welcoming to all people that came into our lives no matter race, class or creed. And I have been blessed in my life to live and travel across the world from Vancouver Canada, where I grew up, across Europe, Africa, San Francisco and Oakland California, where I spent many years of my young adult life. I now live with my family on the East coast splitting time between our communities in North Carolina and Florida. I know my travels and experiences across continents have contributed to my love for humanity and my respect for our differences, as well as my belief and reverence in our similarities. My deep love for God only adds to my deep love for people and the belief that we are all born citizens of heaven, children of God and created EQUAL in His sight. And therefore, we must find ourselves equal in the eyes of one another.

And so I find myself, I think, in a unique position to share my heart with those who will listen. Those of you who may find yourself utterly exhausted by what you see, experience or have been aware of for ages.. or perhaps those who find themselves at a recent point of recognition - eyes opened to the undeniable racial oppression, injustice, and disparity people of color still face in this country and across the world. Perhaps you are a pastor or leader in a church, or maybe you have no religious affiliation whatsoever. None the less I pray you would hear my heart. My cry. My story about some of the most beautiful souls I have ever known and who have so deeply impacted my life.

So let me first tell you about a man, a man who saw past my circumstances, past my pain, undeterred by my past and unrelentless in his love for me... The only man I ever encountered who viewed me first as a child of God. Who loved me right down to my soul and saw me for who I was to Heaven. A man who leads his family with strength, courage, character and such selflessness I find myself in awe of his capacity to love and to lead. This man is my husband. He is African American.

Let me tell you about a woman, a woman 20 years my senior who found me, broken, tormented by pain, living in sin and despite it all loved me to life. She saw me through the eyes of God, and altered the trajectory of my life forever. She spoke hope into hopelessness. Life into dry bones. Joy into mourning. This woman is my spiritual mother. She is African American.

Let me tell you about one of my hero’s. She is strong, courageous and unwavering in her faith. She was the first woman in history to teach alongside her husband from the stage. She stepped foot on platforms and taught the gospel when women in leadership was not welcome or wanted by the Church. She taught my husband to love as he does and called me daughter from the day we met. She has touched the lives of too many people to count. This woman is my mother in love, as we say. She is African American.

Let me tell you about the young women and men who fill my life with friendship. The ones I call when I feel broken. The ones I ask what to do when I have questions about being a mom. The people I cry to when I feel overwhelmed. Or who fill our home for every birthday, holiday, special occasion and excuse to celebrate one another. These are the people closest to me. That see me for me; the good, the bad and the everything in between. They are amazing men and women I am blessed to call my friends and my chosen family. The large majority of them are African American and people of color.

Let me tell you about a family. A family that opened their hearts and their arms and excepted me as their own. A family so full of love it’s contagious. So special it’s supernatural. So deep with love, honor, and respect it flows from every fiber of their being. So filled by the spirit of God it is palpable when they fill a room. These are the Timberlakes. My brothers and sisters in love. My nieces and nephews. My Aunts and Uncles and cousins so vast I can’t always remember everyone’s name. They are the family I gained when I married my husband. They are all African American.

Now let me tell you about a group of people that have filled the last 5 years of my life with more joy than I have ever known. They have given me hugs to last a lifetime. Spoken words of encouragement to me when I have shared my struggles. And offered help when I have been in visible pain. They have prayed for me more than I will ever know. They have loved me like they’ve known me all my life. They accepted me so deeply, even when I look like the very men and women who have persecuted and oppressed them the whole of their lives. And not only accepted me, they embraced me. They loved me. Empowered me. And believed in me. This is my exceptional church. They are almost entirely African American and they are the most beautiful group of people you will ever meet.

Finally let me tell you about a little boy. He is full of joy that is utterly contagious. He’s kind, thoughtful, sweet and compassionate. He is undeniably attentive to the feelings of others. He brings a smile to the face of all who encounter him and beams with hope and light that’s reflective of heaven. When I look at him I feel as if I’m staring at my very heart beating outside my chest. He was born a miracle amidst his mommy’s health challenges and is a reflection of God’s faithfulness and restoring power. This little boy is our baby boy. He is 3 years old. He is African American. And I desperately want to see a different world for him.

These are the people God has blessed me with. The people who fill my life with love and meaning. And they are the reason I am broken. The reason I have been unable to find words. Their fight is my fight. Their pain is my pain. Because on so many occasions, they have allowed my pain to also be theirs. The very word of God teaches us that if one part of the body suffers, the WHOLE body suffers with it. So who are we if we do not grieve alongside our brothers and our sisters. If we do not feel the depths of their brokenness as if we have been broken ourselves. If we do not beg for breath, just as they have done, too many times before.

We find ourselves at a cross roads we have found ourselves at too many times before. We have woken up to the reality that our African American brothers and sisters wake up to every day. But this country has been woken up before. And we have done nothing. We have allowed ourselves to be lulled back to sleep, over and over, eyes closed to the plight and despair of another. I too have been guilty of allowing personal challenges, petty problems, goals and daily comings and goings to lull me back into my own self-centered world, blissfully ignorant in my privileged life to the battle existing right beside me.

But my question for us is this; if you and your family were treated the way black men and women are treated in this country would you be okay with it? If the answer is no, then ask yourself why are you okay with it happening to another? Another human life, just like you, the sole difference a darker complexion. What will it take for you to stand beside them, use your voice, and pursue change? Whatever it is, do that. As many times as you have to call your congressman, do that. As many times as you have to stop a bully from picking on a person of color, do that. As many times as you have to walk across your office or your neighborhood and get to know someone who looks different than you, do that. As many times as you have to pick up the phone and call your friends, neighbors, acquaintances, or co-workers and tell them that you love them, that they matter to you and ask them what you can do to make a difference in their lives, do that. As many times as you have to peacefully protest the unjust and unlawful killings of a black man or woman, do that. And as many times as you have to use your voice and speak up against the injustice and evil of racism, please, I beg you, do that. And don’t stop doing it. Speak up again and again and again, and don’t stop speaking up because the most recent moment of public acknowledgement has passed. Because a person’s name and life can not just be a current and trending hashtag, or social justice moment come and gone. That name, every name, from George Floyd to Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, and the unending list of men and women, known and unknown, is attached to a life and breath that was stolen from this world too soon.