On this Thanksgiving, I share again the beautiful prayer of great black theologian Howard Thurman, “A Litany of Thanksgiving
I've often wondered about the tension and the discomfort of living in the middle. By middle, I mean that space where one has to wrestle with beliefs that aren't their own. That space where I'm compelled to break bread with people who are different than me.
I've been hearing the word "hate" a lot lately. It's not a new concept. Though one may try and protect the unconditional loving innocence of a child, hatred is a notion that one grows into this world understanding at an early age.
As we celebrate this season of Advent and Christmas, with great joy and rejoicing, I cannot help but think about the hardship and trouble, heartache and pain, so many people, families and communities are experiencing in our world. In reflecting on the birth of Jesus, and the signs and wonders of the season, I cannot help but wonder as well about our penchant as humans to dehumanize one another.
In its own way, the HBCU made the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom possible. Today's HBCU must make meaning of its legacy for its students, who must work tirelessly to usher in a better society and more just world.
While it is tempting to perseverate with questions of "why" and "unfairness," this tendency can delay you from saving what still has life. We must not tarry in our heads when there is ground to clear, rescues to handle.
"You a writer, or something?" he asks, noticing my gymnastic struggle with pen and paper. His inquiry reminds me of the mosquito hovering around your ear on a hot July evening, and you, without a fly swatter. Good thing, though. I would have missed the fireworks.
Personally I try to stay in the moment more, and I really have become less mean to myself, but it remains a constant challenge.