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Dear You

June 7, 2016

Dear (insert name here),


You know who you are.  You’re the one who hides behind free speech.  You let others “say out loud what you’re thinking”.  You’re the real (fill in the nationality or other important characteristic that you feel is all yours).   


You don’t have the right to spread your hatred as freely as dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. Your ignorance doesn’t scare me.  It only makes your soul bitter and diminishes your ability to see the beauty of what I can and do bring to this world.


I cannot waste time pitying you and hoping that one day you’ll see the light.  My light. 


Just because your voice is the loudest and most hate-filled, you still don’t have the right to spread your disease. 


I am here.  We are here.  Telling us to go back home only makes you look stupid.  We are home.


Apparently God didn’t want us to all be the same.  That’s why we were created with brown, yellow, golden, and tan skin.  But if that’s the first and only thing you see when your eyes refuse to meet mine, that’s a shame.  You’ll never know the strength gained from my struggles or the hope and love that was instilled in me from the beginning despite circumstances that should have made me turn out just like you.  You’ll never taste the rich bounty that is freely shared when dining at my table.  You’ll miss the songs of praise and heartfelt prayers to the Creator who can only be saddened at the behavior of the children He created.  You’ll mock with contempt our celebrations and you’ll cringe when you hear our words spoken in languages or dialects that you’re too lazy to understand and sounds as unfamiliar to you as love is to your heart.


But it’s your loss, not mine.  You have made the choice to let hatred and bigotry keep you imprisoned in a place that will surely become more lonely and sad with each passing day.  That’s fine.  It’s your right.  But you do not have the right to try and extinguish my light, squash my hope, steal my joy, and imprison me too.  There’s too much to me to keep me contained or to make me ashamed of who God intended me to be. 


So continue to let your hatred, fear, and bigotry fester.  I know that the cure is love.  Which will you choose?




(I won't bother filling in the blank. You don’t see me anyway.)



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