Last night while I was worshiping…OK, I was doing Zumba…OK, I was dancing around my home to Trick Daddy’s “Let’s Go” after a long day of work and meetings, so I needed to relieve some stress. You should know I love to dance and listen to trap music late at night. I promise I love Jesus. Anyways, I was doing this because things are pretty heavy in the world right now. It would have been nice if we could have gotten COVID-19 under control before adding a second coming of the Civil Rights Movement, but alas, here we are.

I can’t help but wonder how you’re feeling tonight. The weight of being a Black man in America will be one that I never carry. In betwixt my sad attempt to twerk, even though it is not a twerking song, I wondered if there will come a time when we will put the baby down, turn on some music, and dance in our home or if the hands of racism will meet you before I do. I can’t help but wonder when we do meet if your heart will be so hardened and your self-esteem so damaged because the world keeps telling you that your life doesn’t matter. I wonder, will I be able to receive the love you give me because I have to keep building walls around my heart and my mind not to turn jaded. I wonder if our hearts will recognize each other through the mask we both have to put on daily to perform for this broken world.

As I moved my playlist to more soothing melodies, one of T.I’s slow songs…I’m kidding; I prayed for you. I prayed that through all the noise, you are finding pockets of peace. I prayed that you would know some of us look at you and marvel. We are proud of what you’ve accomplished. Your endurance inspires us. We imitate your resilience. And we thank God that you are who God chose to walk in your shoes. I prayed that the very core of you are reminded that the Father deeply loves you and that He is pleased with you.

Maybe I’ve seen you at a protest standing up for your brothers George, Alton, Philando, Trayvon, Tamir, or Eric, Walter, Alonzo, or Oscar. Maybe I caught your eye when you said her name: Breona, Sandra, Iyonna, Betty, or Atatiana. Perhaps I saw you shed a tear for all of those names that we do to know. And maybe I watched you hold your breath as you thought, “Am I Next?” Don’t give up. Don’t think someone doesn’t see you or isn’t waiting for you.

Until then, I will keep curating this playlist because today’s rap has nothing on the 9-9 and the 2000.

Your Black Life Matters,