Wednesday Morning

On Wednesday morning, I woke up to a world that fills me with sadness and grief, worry, fear and anger; 

a world in which many of my friends are as unsafe as they have ever been.

 On Wednesday morning, I woke up to a world in which parents have to pull their kids out of school early because of the racial harassment that has gotten worse; 

a world in which my Latino/a friends (my people, as it were), fear for their stability and the security of the lives they’ve made for themselves here. 

On Wednesday morning, I woke up to a world that cruelly rejects one of my tradition’s Abrahamic sister religions – from which there is so much to learn; 

a world in which people think it is ok and appropriate and acceptable to grab a woman’s hijab and rip it off her head. 

On Wednesday morning, I woke up to a world in which people who fear unsafe and unwelcome touch fear it even more – in broad daylight on a busy street, in darkened parking lots on an otherwise blissfully chilly and crisp fall night; 

a world in which one’s skin color, gender identity, sexual orientation, religious affiliation has become a deciding factor in whether or not that person will choose leave the house that day and try to live their lives. 

On Wednesday morning, I woke up to a world in which my kind, the privileged,  have a chance to do good.  To seek justice, encourage the oppressed, defend the cause of the fatherless and plead the case of the widow;

a world in which the privileged are invited to listen to our fellow humans who are different from us, and may have experienced things we cannot even begin to imagine. 

To listen to their stories, their fears, their cries of mourning; to listen with love to the marginalized as they teach us how to become advocates for, and allies with, them. 

On Wednesday morning, I woke up to a world that feels locked in a perpetual Good Friday of hope lost and comfort not to be found; 

a world in which I am called to bring Easter to my surroundings: light in darkness, hope in despair, joy in sorrow, solidarity in hate-fueled horribleness. 

I pray that I take my call as seriously as I ever have; that in Christ’s abundant – for – all love, I can help to transform Good Friday Wednesday mornings of mourning into hopeful Easters of dancing in holy comfort surely to come soon. 

May it be so. 



  1. Gerald Padgett

    I was disappointed in your blog. God is still in charge of this world-instead of joining the negative crowd-pray and help promote christian love and unity among all people—don’t panic !!! (or cause panic by your position of influence). Love you.

    1. sarainrealife

      Thanks for reading! And thank you for that insight. I’d hoped the Easter hopefulness would overshadow the negative. My intent certainly is not to create panic; rather to create a safe space of solitary for friends of mine who are dealing with real griefs. A safe space where valid human fears can co-exist with the comfort of God in control. Sometimes, like Job, we need a safe space to sit in the ashes for a bit before rising into the hope. Your reminder is a good word – not to stay in the fear! To rest in the comfort of God in control. Love you too.

  2. Greg Smith

    I’m glad you have your writing to process the discouragement, pain, and fear that has been so widespread in the past two weeks, particularly among followers of Jesus. Keep expressing your concerns in this healthy way. People need to hear your voice declaring the way of Jesus, and identifying what is not the way of Jesus. The light of God’s love will continue to shine in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it. (Please remind me of this when I need to hear it!) I’m so glad we are colleagues in ministry. Greg

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