I am consumed by this tonight and often,

Our legacy is what it is.

It never benefits us or anyone else to forget it or sweep it under the rug.

There were four precious little girls who came to church to spend time with Jesus who stepped into his presence that day.

I missed a day I usually remember this week.

I missed, occupied by so much fresh tragedy, violence, hatred, and ugliness.

I am ashamed for all I miss and grateful for all the reminders.

Four little girls dressed up for church as pretty as could be.
Four little girls show up to worship in the land of the free.
Four little girls bowed down in peace and closed their eyes in prayer
And when their eyes were opened, they didn’t have a care,
But here among the living the weeping, wailing faces
Mourned the loss of innocence and four dark, empty spaces.

We remember Birmingham and pray for those who, still today, still feel the pain.

The date was September 15, 1963

But it is never too late to remember and always too soon to forget.

Take a moment or two.
Pause.
Listen.
Remember. Reflect Recommit.

The false “benevolence of racism.

I learned an anthem, hymn, and prayer from my black friends in high school. I had to wait for high school to know them or learn this hymn and history. I am so grateful for them as my teachers.

Lift every voice and sing,
‘Til earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on ’til victory is won.

Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chastening rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place For which our fathers died.
We have come, over a way that with tears has been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
‘Til now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who has by Thy might
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,
Lest our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land.

The Black National Anthem

And finally, a man who says more with his fingers than I can say with words.