“Accountability & Affirmation” by Toya Poplar

Have you ever been awakened to the sound of an Amber Alert?

This morning I woke up to that sound. I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t. The little girl who was missing this time was mine. Not literally, but figuratively. There’s a little girl who lives inside of me who can’t locate her emotions. I’m displaced in my thoughts and deeply disturbed within my spirit.  Much like a child who has been snatched out of their bed, my life has been abducted. My innocence has been stolen. And the world that I live in may likely never be the same.

I am certain that many were awakened by the same alert. Some may have felt annoyed, turned their phone off, or gone back to sleep. Others might have found themselves triggered to think of a time something like this happened to someone they know and love. Are you the type of person to read the details, share the alert, and be determined to do your part to make sure that child gets home safely? Or, does that child have to look like you for you to have a desire to make a difference?

Even though it’s difficult, there are questions to be asked and conversations to be had. This time in our nation can be the beginning of the end or a new way of beginning. There is an alarm going off and if we all push snooze, someone guilty gets away and innocent lives will suffer. If you are fatigued from racial exhaustion, explain that to the people who wish to engage. If your grief is too great, say,

 “I don’t have the mental margin to dialogue, but once I recuperate I will re-emerge.” 

If someone truly cares about you they will be patient, kind, and handle you with care. If someone doesn’t have the capacity to respect your boundaries they will mishandle your emotions, mischaracterize your frustrations, and demonize your dismay. Simply stated, your people are your people. And anyone who professes the name of Christ should know full well that there is a time to speak and a time to keep silent. If you tell someone you will re-emerge it is imperative that you keep your word. Your voice may be the only voice that causes them to care about the alarm.  

A friend once told me that when major things take place in the world she has a few voices that she wants to hear from. She looks to these voices to gauge what’s in her heart. She asked me, 

“Don’t you have people you look to?” 

I replied, 

“No, I listen to God’s voice.” 

Hindsight has revealed that my answer was a passive-aggressive way of pleading the fifth. I have never been one to want to be like others, so it bothers me when someone expects me to speak up on cue. I could give you a myriad of reasons why I refrain, but today I will admit two that are equally true. 

The first reason being white fragility, and the second, black hostility.

I have felt like my faith has been put on trial at times by white friends and I have felt the same way concerning my “blackness” by people of color.

Sometimes it’s easier for me to “socially distance” myself from the interrogations, insinuations, and interactions, however, what is easy is not always beneficial. 

I realize what my friend meant about wanting to hear certain voices. Her heart was longing to know that she was not alone in her suffering. Lately, I have paid attention to and observed people’s social media pages. I have seen posts of justified frustration. I have been proud of privileged people who use their power to raise awareness. I have read comments that were laden with fear and fragility. I have empathized with people’s pain, been appalled by meanness, ignorance, and apathy. I have grown discouraged from dissonance and dismayed by deafening silence. Ultimately, I have decided that I will focus on the plank in my own eye because dissecting the speck in the eyes of others has only left me downcast and depleted.

I can’t speak for others, but I myself am guilty of affirming the Bride of Christ; in Her efforts to appear multi-ethnic, rather than holding Her accountable if the environment she creates causes pain or discomfort to people of color.

I have done a disservice to “well-meaning” white friends by being passively pleasant in the face of assumptions, microaggressions, sweeping generalizations, and cultural appropriations that have warranted confrontation.

I would like to extend an apology to black friends that I have occasionally viewed as bullies. I’m sorry for the times I tuned out your message because I perceived your methods as mean. I realize you were hurting, and rightfully so. Though we may have chosen different ways of expressing grief, one thing has always been certain; if one part of the body is hurting, we all suffer.

I want to be the change I wish to see instead of allowing the enemy to convince me that I am on a witness stand. I don’t mind being a witness for Christ, but I often fear being found in contempt of condemnation’s court. If I want my grandchildren to grow up in a world free from systemic injustice. This is no time to hit snooze, try to change the channel, or subscribe to a color-blind mindset that attempts to sterilize our nation’s blood-stained past. 

I have heard many references to Dr. King’s dream for America over the past few weeks. Most people who reference his “I Have A Dream” speech are not familiar with the more radical Dr. King. The one the FBI referred to as “the most dangerous man in America.” And many who have memorized warm fuzzy excerpts from his speeches remain unaware that “Why America May Go to Hell” was the title of the message he planned to deliver at Ebenezer Baptist Church, on Sunday, April 7th, 1968. Tragically, he was assassinated on April 4th. America has sought to sterilize King’s message for far too long.

King’s words mattered. His words resonate even more loudly now, in 2020. For some, this may serve as a salve. And for others, it may sting. But for me, it serves as a reminder: It is time for us to awaken from our slumber.

Writing this was a necessary evil. I didn’t want to, but I had to. And I couldn’t sleep until I felt that what I stated was the closest depiction of what has been filling my emotional cup. Whether it is seen as evil or necessary, please know that even the most docile, compliant, compassionate Christian has a sinful cynic that occasionally whispers in their psyche. 

Sometimes, one’s silence is an act of God’s mercy toward the person who has crossed the line. Other times, it is a powerful testimony that an individual is truly dead to sin and alive to righteousness. It serves as evidence that where sin abounds, grace abounds much more. For many people of color, silence has been a survival mechanism that has been subconsciously passed down for generations; a strategy, allowing them to survive one more day.

“Many have smiled through tears,

For so many years,

That even we start to believe,

That our smiles are sincere.”

Count this as a confession of repentance for complacency . . . Public admission of passivity, and most importantly, an effort to close the portal on the private administering of the side-eye towards my fellow Christian neighbors. 

Let’s be intentional about being slow to speak and quick to hear. We are living in times in which words can be easily misconstrued, motives can be quickly misunderstood, and the people we have to someday return back to the marketplace, ministry, or mission field with can be mischaracterized based on digital disengagement. I believe the most transformative engagement towards reconciliation must take place on an individual basis.

There are many parts to the body and every joint supplies something invaluable. Some of the private parts of the human body perform the most important functions. And there are people who aren’t sounding off on social media platforms that are praying us through these perilous times. They are the peacemakers, the ones the Bible calls “blessed.” The ones who “see” God because they refuse to look to man. Those rare ones among us who have the self-restraint to feel deep empathy, stand in solidarity, and not feel the need to broadcast it to the world.

The very individuals we assume are being passive, might be flipping over tables in the temples of their minds. They pray powerfully but privately and openly see results. Instead of reaping likes and shares, they experience solace deep within their souls. I know that it’s hard to comprehend how someone can be quiet in the midst of chaos. But rest assured, they will speak up at an appointed time. 

Jesus wept, stole away from the crowd, slipped out of the backs of synagogues, wrote in the sand, but he also scattered coins, pulled out a whip, and flipped the script in church. Don’t get it twisted, there are mighty meek ones among us who are the furthest thing from weak.

Thank you to those who have the courage and compassion to share your convictions publicly. And to others who have been brave enough to reach out privately to the people you do life with. I have been honored to share heavy emotions, experience the full acceptance of God’s love, or simply sit in silence and lament alongside image-bearers and truth sharers. I have been deeply wounded by apathy, and greatly blessed by empathy. Let us not forget that mourning is not only needed but encouraged biblically.

Whether you lead with your gut, heart, or head, know that the hand can’t say to the foot, “I don’t need you.” 

If we do away with private parts of the body we miss out on things like intimacy and digestion. Don’t let your behavior on social media amputate you from the body you are called to be connected to. We are all in this together, let’s seek to love each other well.

“You’re nothing but show-offs! First, take the log out of your own eye; then you can see how to take the speck out of your friend’s eye.” Matthew 7:5 CEV

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2

“We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.” 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 NIV

“This is the kind of life you’ve been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so you would know that it could be done, and also know how to do it, step-by-step.” 1 Peter 2:21 MSG

“A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” Luke 6:45 NIV

“The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance.” I Corinthians 12:25-26 MSG

“Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don’t see many of “the brightest and the best” among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these “nobodies” to expose the hollow pretensions of the “somebodies”? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That’s why we have the saying, “If you’re going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God.” I Corinthians 1:26-31 MSG

~ Written by Toya Poplar ~

Toya Poplar is an author, speaker, and relational coach. She is a community advocate and co-founder of Save Our Sons Huntsville, a non-partisan group that promotes racial reconciliation. Toya enjoys fostering environments in which people get what they need from God and what they don’t know they need from each other.  Toya is the author of the Best-Selling journal, Stop Write There. 

For more information on Save Our Sons Huntsville visit, www.saveoursonshuntsville.com

For more information on Toya visit, www.toyapoplar.com

Tags: conversations, Neighbor, racial tensions, relationships, Toya Poplar