#CantKeepQuietNoMore

It's a chilly, rainy day, and I had the audacity to allow my 9 year old son wear a hoodie, and (gasp) he wore it with the hood up. According to Geraldo Rivera - on the sole basis of my son's brown skin - that article of clothing alone is supposedly enough to make the shooting of a young black boy understandable.

I am so SICK of the stereotypes and misconceptions that plague our country. The tragic death of Trayvon Martin - and the aftermath that continues to follow - only brings to the surface the larger issues that still permeate our national consciousness and identities.

Yes, I do take comments about black men personally, because I am the wife of one, the daughter of one, the mother of one. The black men in my life are some of the greatest men I know - not because of their skin color, but because of their character, their wisdom, their hearts. I don't even think of them being black. I think of them being men. When you say something negative about black men, you are saying something negative about the men I love. So, yes, I do take it personally.

My challenge to the body of Christ - black, white, Chinese, Latino; rich, poor, or just trying to make it to the next payday - let's show the world how Christ really loves. There is no box to check your "race" in the Lamb's Book of Life. We, as Christians, should be the first ones free of stereotyping (in either direction). We should be the first ones who aren't tied to shallow perceptions of other human beings based on superficial characteristics like skin color. That black skin, that white skin, all skin, turns to the same thing: dust. If we can't get it right in our (largely segregated) churches, why would we expect the rest of the world to do so? We're asking for a type of love and acceptance that we haven't figured out ourselves.

My heart is heavy for the grief, pain, and finger-pointing that is going on across this nation right now. Let's move beyond assumptions, stereotyping, profiling, us vs. them mentalities. America is over two hundred years old, but that does not mean we've grown up. As long as we keep stumbling over colors like toddlers fighting over crayons, we'll never be united.