DAY BY DAY

"One day at a time, sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking of You
Lord give me the strength to do everyday
What I have to do
Yesterday is gone, sweet Jesus
Tomorrow may never be mine
So Lord for my sake 

Help me to take
One day at a time" ~ as sung by Mother Emily Bibby

It's been two weeks. It still doesn't seem real. I'm back at work because apparently that's supposed to help, and don't get me wrong, it is helping. When I walked back into work, they seemed really happy that I was back. When I was back at my station, the students were happy to see me back, and I was also happy to see them? Trying to put on a happy face to serve sandwiches and wraps, while trying to deal with the numbness of losing a parent, is not easy. So when I'm asked how I'm doing, I don't know. I tell people I'm taking it day by day. 

"Why doesn't Daniel call?" Because I don't know what to say. Even while writing this I'm struggling to find the words to say or the right way to put the words together that are in my head. What do you want to hear from me anyway? That I'm drained? That I'm ashamed that I wasn't further in life when this happened? That I never gave my dad a daughter in law while he was with us? That I feel more lonely that I've ever had before? That's not easy to just come out and say over the phone. Yeah I'm going to work, la di da, oh the money, but when I come home--

At the funeral, I was doing ok. I saw him in the casket. I was trying to get my tribute on the TV they had at the funeral home but I never got it to work. Just ended up playing it from my laptop. Seeing people gathered around the laptop to watch it was a sight to see. I was spending time with my great nephew. It wasn't until right before the service started, I broke. My sister was there to help me cry through it. My mom was behind us both praying. I was sitting with my brother and sister. I can't remember how long it has been since I sat with my brother and sister in a service.

I'm tired. For those that have been reading, I've been very open about my mental health the past couple of years. Dad was a supporter of the blogs. It's funny when I was heading to KY I was hoping to make him laugh again, only to find out he was gone before I even landed. I didn't say anything at the funeral. I wasn't able to. If I could hear him say, "Hey mister..." again--

I'm done.

~Daniel Richerson

HOW LONG WILL THIS CYCLE CONTINUE?

"When the weight of this whole world
Tries to slay me
A strong tower from the enemy
You will be for me
So I need to find this place
Yes the special secret place
I'm assured of Your embrace
The place I ca'll my sanctuary
There You are" ~ Lead Me To The Rock, Stephen Hurd

"Truth is I'm tired
Options are few
I'm trying to pray
But where are you?
I'm all churched out
Hurt and abused
I can't fake
What's left to do?
Truth is I'm weak
No strength to fight
No tears to cry
Even if I tried
But still my soul
Refuses to die
One touch-will change-my life" ~Take Me To The King, Tamela Mann

"Pass me not oh gentle savior
Hear my humble cry
While on others thou art calling
Do not pass me by"

The last few posts were focused on mental health. Focused on not holding stuff in and finding people to talk to. Talking about all that, and then the reality of America comes to fruition. The reality that if you're black in America, you are still counted less than a human being. It feels like being black in America, you're still counted as 3/5 of a human being. One would think that the 3/5 compromise was not in affect anymore. Michael Jackson, God rest his soul, put out a song back in 1995 that says, "All I want to say is that they don't really care about us."

Proverbs 23:7a "For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he" America has tried to push racism under the proverbial rug, but never bothered to address it. I watched this adult cartoon, Family Guy. On a particular episode they had a cut away where the slave owner told the slave he was free and then asked the slave, "So, we're cool right?" It feels like that's what happen after the civil rights movement. America to black people, "So, we're cool right?"

There's a Will Smith quote making the rounds, "Racism is not new, it's being filmed." That's facts. But even when it's not filmed, we should care just as much. People were mad at the group NWA back in the late 80s when the song, F The Police was released. Instead of looking into why the song was written in the first place, or listening to the rallying cry that the song was talking about, they got brushed off as just about of "thugs." Good thing that doesn't happen in 2020....cough cough. The world did to NWA what the church does to the world which is look at what they look like and what they're wearing and disregard them. Maybe the problem is not the clothes. Maybe the problem is the heart that's corrupt. 

Now some may look at me as a mixed man and ask why do I care? Why do I care about Blacks Lives Matter. Why I do I talk as if I'm a black man when I'm mixed? Well first of all, let's not act like being mixed is all Sunshine and rainbows. Let's not act like when I go out in public I don't get looks. Let's not act like when my parents were together, and we went out as a family, we got stared at like we were illegal. Like we were in South Africa during apartheid. I can remember when we would visit my Dad's side of the family in Kentucky, we'd stop at Wendys to get something to eat, and the atmosphere was scary. I remember feeling like I didn't belong. Kinda like I was counted as 3/5...yeah so that's why I speak up. I may not have had a bad encounter with the police, but that doesn't mean it can't happen. All it takes is one time. All it takes is one time for me to get pulled over by the wrong cop and all the sudden I'm a hashtag.

The church has been quiet on this issue for too long. The church has swept this under the rug for too long. It's time to speak up. It's time to say hey, enough is enough. It's to work the faith. It's time to as my dad would say, "Put feet on them prayers." How many more wake up calls do we need? How many more decades have to pass? How many more generations have to hear songs like "F The Police" by NWA or "Good Cop Bad Cop" by Ice Cube and say, "That's still relevant today." How many more moments do we have to get by? How many more deaths do we have to "get over?" When is enough really going to be enough? When are we going to stop hitting the snooze button on the alarm clock? When are we going to listen to the cries of the people and stop putting a pacifier in the mouths so they will shut up? 

This world needs hope. This world needs Jesus. This world needs love. Agape love. True love. That love of Jesus that we say we have? The world needs that. The world needs to see that. Put down the religious rule books. Put down the religious traditions, and show people Jesus. If Jesus gives you joy, why not present that to this joyless society? I'm tired.

I know it's not all police. I know it's not all white people. I know it's not all---but one bad apple...

Stay Saved,

Daniel Richerson