Dear All Lives Matter

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Dear All Lives Matter,

The schools of Detroit Public Schools (DPS) are being stripped. The teachers are being forced out and being made to look like the villains. Before you know it, DPS won’t exist. Children are being forced to go to schools that don’t have heat, updated books, or enough certified teachers to teach. Everyone knows that a quality education is one of the prerequisites to a successful life. The lives of those children matter because all lives matter.

You might have heard about the Sick Outs, but just in case you haven’t let me catch you up. DPS teachers are calling in sick, in droves. So many are calling in because they really are sick. They’re sick of losing their benefits. They’re sick of taking paycuts. They’re sick of having to teach 40 students per class. They are sick of losing funding. They are sick of being blamed for the failing system. They are sick of knowing that their school district is being intentionally and systematically dismantled by the institution that claims to be supporting them, the state. They are sick of not being able to live lives like people with full time jobs. Their lives and livelihoods matter because all lives matter. So yea, they’re sick, but probably not as sick as our neighbors in Flint.

I know you know about the genocide poisoning unfortunate event that is the lead filled water that’s plaguing the city of Flint. So far, only ten people have died. You and I know that even ten is too many because all lives matter. Different organizations are working together to donate bottled water to the citizens of Flint. This needs to happen because city officials have officially declared that the brown colored water is safe to drink and bathe in.

Detroit and Flint used to be heavily populated cities. They attracted lots of people in decades past because so many jobs were available in car plants. Over the years, the jobs were moved to the suburbs, but the people (who couldn’t afford to move) stayed. Schools are funded based on the property values of the homes surrounding the schools. If neighborhoods are poor so are the schools. Poor schools lose resources and materials. Then, class sizes increase and test scores decrease. The government uses the test information as proof that the teachers, administrators and school board are inept and the solution is for the state to take over. This happened in both Detroit and Flint.

I could say more, but I want this message to reach the people it’s intended to reach before I divulge more details about the crimes being committed against Black people of color  poor people citizens of Michigan so please send this to the leaders of All Lives Matter of Michigan.

Fundamentally, we agree. All lives matter. The way we show that is different though. Let’s meet and discuss this.

Peace,

CAE

P.S. Please tell the modern day slave auctioneers who break up families  Child Protective Services (CPS) that it isn’t ok for them to come and take citizens of Flint’s children because they are refusing to pay water bills for polluted water.

  

Home Is Where the Heart [of God] Is

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Last year my life changed a lot. The city I live in, the job I do, the people I live with, the church I attend, the work I do at church… All different now.

All the changes happened pretty close to the same time. That season of so much transition left me feeling lost and frankly kinda… Homeless. I have always had somewhere to live, but you know the saying “Home is where the heart is.”? It’s so very true, but my heart was everywhere. My heart was in the Greater Lansing area because I lived there my whole adult life. It was at Kidtime because I worked there longer than any other job I’d ever worked. My heart was at the Epicenter of Worship because it was the only constant in my ever changing life. That is until I realized the Lord was shifting me to a new place, spiritually and literally. When I finally acknowledged the feeling that change was unavoidable, between sobs, I asked and begged the Lord to let me stay. Because that was my home. My spiritual parents were there and they have nurtured me since I was a babe in Christ and a teen in my natural life.
My friends were there. And I was comfortable there.
One day, during one of my fits I heard the Holy Spirit edit that home adage. He said “Home is where the heart [of God] is.” I knew what He was saying. He meant, wherever God is, I’m home. That gave me the peace and oz (courage) to move on, emotionally.

That moment was replaying in my mind constantly as I visited Caesarea Phillipi. Today, I walked on a bridge that goes over the Jordan River.

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As soon as I stepped on it, a song came to mind. “When I wake up to find Your glory divine and I finally bow at Your feet, I will lift up Your name in honor and praise. When I cross over Jordan, I know that I’ll be running home to You.”

One of the main purposes of this trip, according to the visionary, is to help people develop a heart for Israel. That’s what happened for me in that moment. God loves the people of Israel. He is in covenant with them. He loves the land of Israel. If His heart is here, I’m home.

And it’s a blessing to be grafted into that covenant family.

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The biggest kicker? My room number is my home address.

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