This summer has felt turbulent. The violence and unrest around the world have kept me up at night praying, and aching.
In the midst of daily life, I find myself soaking in the stories and statistics of real people around the world: Gaza, Iraq, ebola in West Africa. In between loads of laundry, taking the kids on adventures, and fixing dinner, my heart cries out to God: Come, Lord Jesus. Heal our lands. Bring peace. Bring your reconciliation.
Then, one day, Michael Brown was killed. And it wasn’t across the world, but 23.5 miles from our house.
A slumbering giant awakened in our city.
The past two weeks have been full in Ferguson and around St. Louis. I know no other way to say it succinctly. They have been full.
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to spend time in Ferguson and to join writers connected to The High Calling. They came to Ferguson to hear and honor the stories of the people here… [The High Calling created a space for conversation about what where Faith and Ferguson met. Read the rest here]