“Mommy, can we go to the store and buy food for people who don’t have a home?” I was taken aback by my daughter’s request as we pulled out of her preschool parking lot. “Of course. Let’s do it now,” I said.
The first time I experienced it, I was standing in a work training classroom of almost all men. Before I even said a word, the lecturer whistled and said, “I wish she was my assistant, if you know what I mean.”
When scripture says God so loved the world, it doesn’t mean he loves only the wealthy or the male or the American or the white skinned or the baby after a certain stage of development or the heterosexual person or the citizen or the people who contribute financially/are beneficial to society.
She was sitting, hunched in the corner near the trampoline. The two little girls in her charge were jumping and playing. Obvious to any observer, she was angry and in a bad mood.
Hands were meant to grasp, fingers to intertwine, eyes to be seen, feet to walk, mouths to speak, and there are no exceptions. That means you, you refugee.
This morning as we played Martin Luther King’s “I Have A Dream” speech for our three-year old, she listened contently. Here are a few of her comments:
When you are tired and overworked, ignored or cast aside, God asks you, “Do you know who you are?”