Inspired by Ecclesiasticus 45:6–16 & Luke 19:41–48 I stood in the ash of a broken city,my hands lifted like cracked branchesstill reaching for rain.And He, Christ,not high on a thronebut bending low above the ruinwept.He did not weep as kings do,with detachment or distance.He wept like a fatherwatching his son bleed out in a school…
By the fire of justice and the breath of hope I stood in the marrow of midnight,in the echo of drums made of broken bones,beneath a sky that forgot how to pray.And I saw Americanot as she paints herself in glory,but naked in the mirror of the Most High.She wore a crown of corporationsand drank…
Remembering Enmegahbowh, Priest and Missionary, 1902 in the Shadow of Empire He stoodnot with sword,but with Spirit.Not to conquer,but to heal.They called him Enmegahbowhthe one who stands before his peopleand stand he did,between the Cross and the Crown,between tribe and church,between war cries and whispered prayers.He did not bend to empire.He did not sell his…
For the Immigrant and the Refugee in the Crosshairs of Empire Originally published: June 11, 2025 You, beloved wanderer,carried across deserts and detention lines,with blistered feet and prayersstitched into your skin like survival songs,you are seen.Though the halls of power spit your name like venom,though the pens of presidentsscribble you into shadows,the Kingdom of Heaven…
You,with the heart that hearsthe quiet sob between the words,the tremble in the voice before the tears fallyou carry more than most will ever see.You,who stands stillwhen the world moves fast,noticing the shadow behind the smile,the story behind the silenceyou are a sacred kind of rare.Empathyis your native language.You speak in sighs and solace,in glances…
Originally published: June 7, 2025 Beloved in Christ,We are a people formed by a story, a story in which the cries of the oppressed rise up to the heavens and God hears. A story in which strangers are not cast out but welcomed. A story in which Jesus, himself a refugee, said, “Whatever you do…
Originally published: June 7, 2025 I don’t normally weep when my boys go.I’ve trained myself, through years of duty, distance,and whispered prayers in empty roomsto offer hugs with open hands,not fists clenched in fear.But today was different.Today, when my youngest turned toward duty,I felt the ache of a thousand motherswhose sons walk into the stormwhile…
…and We Say, No More. Originally published: June 7, 2025 They said,“Immigrants are criminals,”and you believed them.So they zip-tied children brown, terrified, sobbing on sidewalks your taxes paved,while you sipped your latte and thanked them for their service.They dragged kids from school buseswith cartoon backpacks and scraped-up knees.You scrolled past the footage called it fake,…
Originally published: June 6, 2025 The Shepherd is walkingnot above us, but among us,not behind a throne, but in the pasture,mud on His robe, lamb in His arms.He sees the bruised and the broken,the trampled and the tired,and He weeps for the oneswho were pushed from the streamby those who drank deep and walked away.He…
Originally published: June 3, 2025O Holy One,Keeper of tears and witness to injustice,I come to You not with answers,but with ache.I am tired, Lord.Tired of the cruelty masked as law,Tired of silence that blesses oppression,Tired of watching Your children,queer, brown, immigrant, poorbe trampled underfootwhile the empire sings its anthem.I do not belong in this world,not…