in the midst of metamorphosis

I desire open, honest, and nonjudgmental communication from all people and all views and all ideas. The words of my posts are simply my own thoughts on how the church* can fully be operational in Love. My first post on racism and the church (found  here ) was written two years ago, and yet it is still relevant, still truth, still a problem. Though I am no longer a part of the church, I have been observing her, watching...waiting...hoping for her to stand up and take on this devil, this time. Here are a few of my observations on the three camps that have formed within the white church: "All lives matter" is the acceptable motto of the first camp. Here, its members are intent on proving that the church loves all people. While waving this sign, personally and on social media platforms, endears them to their fellow campers, they are either blatantly ignorant to the troubling implications of this mindset (honestly, in this day and age, ignorance can no longer be an excuse ...

**********PARTS OF THIS WERE ORIGINALLY POSTED JULY 2016 I am biracial. In times like these, I feel trapped, caught between the rock of being white and the hard place of being black. I could write for a very long time about the horrors of racism that my family members, that my friends, have endured because of their skin color. I could cry and tell you of the suffering that I have been through, as recently as this month, because of my mixed heritage. I could paint a gruesome picture depicting the ugly side of this mess that most of America would prefer to slide under the ever present rug of denial and disbelief. I won't. This very post had a different slant when I first wrote it four years ago. I didn't want the country we came from, or the culture we were raised in, or the color of our skin to matter. I wanted desperately to look past that into "one big melting pot of beautiful completeness." Yes, those were my words. That was the me of then. and that...