war — Blog — Danielle S. Castillejo

try to ground the butterflies but don’t count us out, yet.

Conditioned against healing the systems oppressing us, I sit here, too. The spice hits my tongue. I love its hotness, the dare of trying more on the next taco.
Unwavering in my tiredness, delight, anger, angst. The bigness of feelings, embraced. Familiarity with oppression is normalized, to where I am chastised for any attempt to bring relief to mi gente by asking those in power to remove their heavy feet off our necks. But we keep asking, demanding, resisting, and flying.

We are watching for the welfare of the elderly, the vulnerable, our neighbors, our enemies, the homeless, the marginalized, the undocumented, the ones with no voice, to say, we see, we will feed you, we will shout from the rooftops to protect you.

Advent's War With Despair: Jesus Incarnate in The Hopelessness

I set my Bible next to the puzzle, wondering if there was an arc that would hold me and my family from the impending flood. Days later, after my therapist handed me a yellow sticky note with 4 names of potential next therapists, I just stared. She’d made the call to get me into the hospital, and days before Thanksgiving, sat me down and told me to look for a new therapist. I really needed help, and I would be best served elsewhere.

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We are watching for the welfare of the elderly, the vulnerable, our neighbors, our enemies, the homeless, the marginalized, the undocumented, the ones with no voice, to say, we see, we will feed you, we will shout from the rooftops to protect you.

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