A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

I am white.

I am female.

I am middle class.

I am Christian. 

I am not in law enforcement. 

I am not gay. 

I am not transgender. 

I am not Muslim. 

Most of the things that make up the core of who I am are not things that I will ever be afraid to lose my life because of them. 

I am female. I am Christian. 

But even the fear that I live in because of being those things is minuscule. As a Christian right now in America, I will not die because of that identity. As a female in America right now, I live in more fear because of cases like the Brock Turner rape case. 

But I will never put on a uniform and wonder if this is my last day because someone has decided to enact upon their vendetta. 

But I will never know the painful cycle of trying to get out of my ghetto or project or community so that I have a chance at something above the poverty line. 

But I will never wake up to my reflection in the mirror believing that my life didn't matter to the world because it's too dark for their liking, fearing that someone might do something about it when I walk out the door, especially the ones that are supposed to protect it.

But I will never walk down the street afraid to hold my partners hand because someone may decide that spewing hateful words and flying fists is alright because my partner is the same sex as me. 

But I will never know the identity crisis of those that identify as transgender or misgendered and I will never worry if someone will harm my life because of the gender of the bathroom I walk in. 

But I will never walk through an airport watching parents holding onto their children as their eyes dart around me because they believe I will blow up a plane because of inaccurate views of my religion. 

But, I still know pain. 

I know great pain. In the past and present. I have struggled with death and life and others' pain and the world's pain. 

And recently, it's been a lot to bear. Wondering where God is in all this brokenness. Wondering how I can call God a good good father when all of this is happening to his children. Wondering what way we have sinned in order for this to happen. Wondering how I am supposed to offer hope to people when I don't have any left. Wondering how I am supposed to be joyful when I am angry at God. Wondering how much longer we have to suffer. Wondering how much longer we will argue before acting. Wondering how many deaths it will take before we act. Wondering when we'll stop turning the finger to everyone else. Wondering when enough will be enough. 

I have nothing left to offer. I have been empty so long that I don't know how to tell someone else that love will win. That victory and healing are coming. That despite whatever happens that God is still good. That joy is coming in the morning. I don't know how to offer truth when right now it feels so far from the truth. 

So here is my cold and broken hallelujah. 

Hallelujah, we are not where we were. 

Hallelujah, some of us are marching towards victory. 

Hallelujah, I can still feel pain. 

Hallelujah, I am still alive. 

Hallelujah, I am not in control. 

Hallelujah, I have power to change one life, even if that life is mine. 

Hallelujah, I still have the capacity to love and show compassion. 

Hallelujah, the future doesn't have to look like the present or the past. 

Hallelujah, people are finally shouting that Black Lives Matter.

Hallelujah, officers are still willing to sacrifice their life despite fear and threats and violence. 

Hallelujah, we are ANGRY at injustice. 

Hallelujah, we are fighting for our brothers and sisters despite our differences. 

"Hallelujah, brokenness cannot survive when redemption lives."

"Hallelujah, we are free to struggle."

Hallelujah, "God is still in the business of redemption."

Hallelujah, "God is near to the broken-hearted."

These hallelujahs are quiet. They are said with clenched teeth. They are said with hot tears and questions and anger. They are said with a cold and broken heart.  They are said with a quiet hope.  A quiet hope that one day I can shout. 

HALLELUJAH, WE ARE FREE

HALLELUJAH, WE ARE WHOLE

HALLELUJAH, WE ARE LOVED

HALLELUJAH, REDEMPTION HAS WON

HALLELUJAH, THE STRUGGLE IS OVER

HALLELUJAH, BROKENNESS HAS BEEN DEFEATED. 

But until then I will keep whispering my cold and broken hallelujahs. 

I will keep wondering. 

I will keep praying. 

I will keep crying.

I will keep changing. 

I will keep hoping. 

I will keep whispering my cold and broken hallelujahs. 

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah.