I worry that my silence offends you.

I'm concerned that my lack of vocalness saddens you.

I'm hoping that my voice isn't a missing piece of the puzzle.

I fear that my prayers,

though utterly genuine and made with my whole heart,

are presumed to be wasted;

because your ears do not hear them,

only the ears of the One.

The One you think forgot about you.

He didn't.

He hasn't.

You are very much on his radar.

I pray that you are.

I pray and have faith that we all are, and that things will get better for everyone very soon.

Yet, when terrible things are happening in the world that cause me to question Him, I clam up.

It's a cowardly trait, and one that I'm working on.

But, please hear me when I assure you,

the quiet ones care.

I promise you that.

We care a whole heck of a lot about an awful lot of things, and we care about YOU.

But we know that, sometimes, people can misspeak or unclearly convey their thoughts, and at such a critical time like this in our country's history, I wouldn't dare risk doing such a thing.

I hope with this, I am not doing such a thing.

I texted my husband last night while each of us was putting separate kids to bed,

"It's like the world has gone mad," I sent to him.

I was referring to

1) the COVID-19 global health pandemic

2) our country's racial injustice pattern

and

3) the unpeaceful rioting, looting, and violence that has hit, for me, a little too close to home.

My home, where my three, not-so-baby, still-believe-the-world-is-entirely-good young children live.

But as I sat on my statement,

on my couch,

white privileged,

inside of my comfortable home,

I realized that the world hasn't gone mad; the world IS mad.

And people all over are really freakin' angry.

And, I get it -- in my own,

young,

healthy,

semi-sheltered,

definitely privileged,

white way.

But I don't get it like others get it.

And I never will.

Because I've never had to experience mistreatment, harm, or the fear of unjustly dying because of the color of my skin.

And, for that reason, I stay quiet.

Because though I worry that my silence offends you, I'm more terrified that my uninformed, inexperienced voice could hurt you, the cause, or the movement even more.

Sometimes when things feel heavy, people get loud.

Sometimes when things feel heavy, people get quiet.

They both care just the same.

They both want

equality for all,
kindness to spread like wildfire,
all violence to stop,
and insuppressible peace to prevail.

It's just that some will stand with you on the rooftops or in the middle of crowded streets and shout it alongside you, while others prefer to respectfully move out of your way so that your needed and vital voice and the supporting voices of so many others have room and space to be heard and appreciated.