The things I ponder over

  What if it were your child whose skin was that color, who wore those clothes, and lived in that house, in that neighborhood; if he had been born from out of your own womb, or fathered through your own love - would you love him any less if he could not do the things that you do- the way you would do them; would you turn and walk the other way when he was coming toward you? What if when we are looking down on the ones who “make us uncomfortable” in their differences from who we are, how we think, what we enjoy, and the things that matter to us... a far greater one than we, is looking down at us, and though he never looks away, and never loves us any less- still he surely wonders at what came of all of the good that he so carefully designed, fashioned, and built into who we were created to be; what actually did come of all of that? I cannot speak for anyone but myself and wouldn’t want to try but I’m surely wondering at all of this for myself at this stage in my life, and I confess ...