I really hope that what is in my heart is somehow about to come out in what I write.  I’ve debated not writing anything, because honestly I don’t know that I can articulate how I feel.  I don’t want to say the wrong thing.  Maybe I’ll just start with a story.

A couple of months back, on the way home from a concert, my niece, her friend, my friend Mallory, and I stopped to get something to eat.  It was Midnight, we were hungry, and I was trying to find us a place where we would be safe.  I pulled off the interstate to a Waffle House that was well-lit, had a lot of cars parked at it, and decided, that in the grand scheme of things, Midnight isn’t nearly the rowdy time at Waffle House.  I parked the car, looked through the windows, and will admit to immediately noticing that every patron in the Waffle House was black – but that didn’t put me off.  We got out and decided to go in.  Let’s pause….

Did I mention we were in Montgomery?  I should probably mention that fact. You see, I’ve always heard that Montgomery was pretty segregated, but in my mind those were stories of times gone by.  This is 2016, and while I know that racism still exist, it isn’t something I have had to really confront in my life.  Some of y’all might be shocked by that since I was born and raised in the South, but it’s true.

We walked in that night, and the entire place initially got quiet.  You could hear a pin drop.  You could feel the tension in the air, and I was faced with a decision – turn around and leave or sit down and eat.  We decided to stay and eat.  After all, we weren’t looking for trouble.  Anyone who knows us knows that we are a friendly, hug your neck kind of crowd.  I truly just wanted us to quickly eat and get back on the road towards home.

It was the longest 30 minutes of my life.

Only one server wanted to wait on us.  She was very nice, although you could tell she was nervous to wait on us. Patrons either stared, walked out, or were openly rude.  I got my food, and it wasn’t what I really ordered, but by that time I was too nervous to even eat.  I got up to pay, and heard the door open and one of the servers who had been rude to us says – in a joking voice: Oh, here comes trouble.

I couldn’t even look behind me.  A few seconds later, I see a white police officer walk behind the counter, pour himself a cup of coffee, and proceed to sit where everyone can see that he is watching us.  I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved or even more nervous.  He talked and laughed with the servers and patrons, and you could tell he was a regular. We paid, walked out to the car, and the police officer gets up and walks to the window to watch us out in the parking lot.  As we went to get in the car, out of nowhere we were approached by a man.  The police officer comes out in the parking lot to make sure we are okay.  I pulled off – almost in tears.

For the first time in 37 years I entered a place and wasn’t liked solely because of what I looked like on the outside.  I made people nervous just for being me. I was treated  as if I was about to bring the whole place to a riot based on nothing other than the fact that I wanted a quick bite on the way home from a concert – and didn’t look like I belonged in that area of town.  That broke my heart – not for me – but because I realized that I would drive my car 150 miles and maybe never experience that feeling again in my life….but the people who sat in that Waffle House can’t say that.  30 minutes of uncomfortable for me is someone else’s entire life to a level I can’t understand.  No escape.  And yet….

And yet, people make generalized statements assuming that the answer is as easy as “if you didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to fear.”  I’ll be bold and honest enough to say that I have felt that way before.  I have assumed that your fear was misplaced and your idea of racism was something that was blown out of proportion.  I have tried to place my world view and my experiences on others, when clearly I do not have the same life experience – nor will I ever have that view.  I am just not sure anymore that the answer is that easy.  Today, my heart hurts.  My heart hurts for my friends and people who have lived under suspicion based on the color of their skin.  My heart hurts for children who are growing up fearing the people who are sent to protect.

My heart hurts, and I worry, for my best friend’s husband who is a state trooper.  He is out there every single day and faced with the reality that he could be ambushed based on his uniform and badge.  Yet, he still goes.  He still gets up and protects.  He is faced with the reality that all of his actions will be scrutinized and even if his actions are above reproach they could be villainized. I am heartbroken and sick that there are those who are living to serve others, only to die at the hands of someone because of what they seem to represent. It’s senseless.

I don’t have all the answers.  I don’t even pretend that I do.  I do know I pray for this country and her people.  I pray that we can open our eyes and see that our greatest strength comes from being united.

I pray and grieve for all the families who have lost loved ones this week.  Lord, that we would see that violence is never going to solve our differences, rather only serve to drive us further apart.