Antes de que Barack Obama se postulara a la presidencia, recuerdo que pensaba que nunca habría un presidente negro en mi vida. Y recuerdo que me sentí abrumado, incluso con lágrimas en los ojos, cuando vi por televisión a la nueva familia presidencial subir al escenario en el Grant Park de Chicago. No fue tanto la imagen del presidente Obama lo que me impactó, sino ver a Michelle y a las niñas, y a la anciana suegra de Barack, que vivirían con dignidad y respeto en la Casa Blanca.
Read MoreBefore Barack Obama ran for president, I remember thinking there would never be a black president in my lifetime. And I remember feeling overwhelmed, even tearful, when I watched on television as the new First Family walked on the stage at Grant Park in Chicago. It wasn’t so much the sight of President Obama that got to me. It was seeing Michelle and the girls, and Barak’s aged mother-in-law who would be living in dignity and esteem in the White House.
Read MoreRead MoreHope is,
Hope is a spark.
Shooting out from my fingers,
Pow, pow, pow!
Hitting the powder on the ground,
Blasting like fireworks to the dark.
It screams,
I (boom) am (crash) here (pow).
God doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t grow tired or weary. My burdens or the burdens of those I love are never too much for him.
Instead, Jesus invites us to allow him to carry all that weighs heavily on us.
Read MoreOn one hand hope fuels me to meet creative deadlines, stirred by the notion that my words will fall on ears to hear and eyes to see. Hope ignites passion to sit with clients who are filled with rumblings of despair as they look over the debris of trauma in their lives. Hope gives birth to desire and longing for repaired relationships.
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