Who would have thought another event could eclipse the news coverage of COVID-19. But it happened last week. I debated for days if this was an appropriate topic, or if this website/blog was the correct channel. A recent conversation convinced me that I must speak out.

Of course I’m referring to George Floyd, a middle-aged black man who died at the hand (or should I say “knee”) of a white police officer in Minneapolis. That horrific incident and the ensuing violence and rioting are the backdrop for this week’s post.

It’s with a heavy heart that I write these words. I am grieving on so many levels, as I’m sure most of you are as well. It is not my intent to be controversial or adversarial. I’m simply sharing what weighs heavy on my heart, and perhaps provide what little perspective an “older white woman” can.

I live near a black family in my neighborhood and had a difficult conversation with the mom and her two twenty-something daughters last week. I say “difficult” not because we ranted and raved at each other, but because we are ALL grieving through this incident that has taken on a life of its own.

I’m a strong believer in addressing difficult situations head on. I didn’t want to pretend that they weren’t deeply affected by this unimaginable tragedy. So we talked for about 20-30 minutes – in quiet, respectful voices.

I asked if they even knew how to process all that had happened. “Not really.” I told them how sorry I was that that this man could lose his life in such a horrific way, while others stood by watching it happen. And some were standing by and not taking action because they feared for their own lives.

We talked for a while about the ways anyone outside of what we think is “normal” (aka “just like us”) is so often treated in this country. I have a friend with two white biological children, and two children adopted from Haiti. She has talked of her heartbreak, watching the stark differences between how her white children and black children are treated in stores. Whether we choose to acknowledge this or not, this is a sad reality for so many.

I told my neighbors that I had no idea how it felt to live as a black person in this country. But I do know our experiences are vastly different and for that, I also apologized to them. Just as in any grieving situation, we don’t have to know exactly what someone is experiencing to be compassionate. If we can acknowledge their pain and perhaps cry with them, we can bring some level of comfort to their lives.

Later that evening I received a text from the mom which read in part, “…knowing that we have at least one neighbor who sees us and understand us makes a world of difference.” THAT made me cry.

Here’s part of what I want you to know about this family – Mom has a PhD and is a professor at a local university. Dad was a world-class athlete, recruited by an American university which resulted in their move to this country. They have two beautiful, gifted, and brilliant daughters. As is so often the case, the mom said, “People don’t see that; they just see the color of our skin.” More sadness. But much truth to these statements.

One of the points I want to make is this:  the family shouldn’t have to hold the amazing resumés they do to garner any of our respect. It should be enough that they are created by God in his image. They, too, are the neighbors God commands us to “love as ourselves.”

A friend reminded me on Facebook this week of the song many of us learned as young children in Sunday School.

“Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world.

Red and yellow black and white, they are precious in his sight.

Jesus loves the little children of the world.”

That’s exactly right. A simple truth from our childhood that we must continue to, not only understand, but act out in love in this world that is so full of hate.

As a Christian, my goal should always be to represent Jesus to this hurting world. What would he expect of us in response to this ever-escalating situation? Here is what I will strive toward:

• Always decry the mentality that can result in the blatant disregard of a human being begging for his life
• While acknowledging the reality of the anger this generates, denounce the violence and destruction of property that ensues in the aftermath
• Speak up and act boldly when I see anyone treated with disrespect, regardless of whether it is racism, sexism, ageism, “classism” or any other “ism” that rears its ugly head
• Look for opportunities to show compassion and understanding
• Don’t shy away from conversations that can open my eyes to another person’s reality
• Pray that God would give us all understanding hearts, and a desire to put the welfare of others ahead of our own

This pandemic has caused me to take a slight detour in the subject matter of this blog, with most of the last few months’ posts dealing with various effects of COVID-19. You may have to look a little deeper at this post, but I believe, at its heart, is this familiar message:  “Be a blessing to your grieving friend.”

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved,

compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience…”

Colossians 3:12