“Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape in the king’s house, more than all the Jews. For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father’s house shall be destroyed: and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:13, 14).

You may not remember, however, that it was Mordecai who started the whole thing. Esther’s pivotal role notwithstanding, Mordecai resisted the power of the regime in strategic and provocative ways.

On background, Mordecai, a Jewish captive in the court of the Persian King Xerxes, worked in the courtyard daily. Mordecai had essentially adopted his orphaned cousin Esther and hovered at a safe distance to ensure her safety. He strategically admonishes Esther to conceal her Jewish ancestry when she gets hauled in as part of an empire-wide search for a new queen. And though he is a captive foreigner, a slave, Mordecai duly reports an assassination plot on the King. But, in all this, make no mistake, though it is rule or custom, and though other subjects and captives perform obeisance, Mordecai refuses to bow down or reverence the number-two-in-charge, Haman. Upon discovering this, Haman’s injured pride knew no bounds, and that’s how Esther and the her people faced a genocide.

“And when Haman saw that Mordecai bowed not, nor did him reverence, then was Haman full of wrath. And he thought scorn to lay hands on Mordecai alone; for they had shewed him the people of Mordecai: wherefore Haman sought to destroy all the Jews that were throughout the whole kingdom of Ahasuerus, even the people of Mordecai,” (Esther 3:5,6).

Such a personal conflict with the world’s most powerful empire at the time reads both rationally, and miraculously. In other words, we can both understand Mordecai’s reasons for standing his ground, especially as his faith is implicated in a perceived act of worship. We can also understand that only the hand of God could rescue him from an arrogant and vengeful official.

I think about this point of conflict in the aftermath of the Minneapolis shooting of Renee Good by veteran ICE agent, Jonathan Ross. A protestor, a “neighbor” seeking to observe, or support, or oppose the work of ICE versus the “conservative Christian” ICE officer, tasked with seeking and removing undocumented individuals.

Whether it is the questionable self-defense argument in the shooting of Good — say her name — or the work of U.S. military aircraft killing the operators of fishing boats in the Caribbean, or searching door-to-door to remove undocumented individuals, or the specialized operation to kidnap the President of a foreign, sovereign nation, how does one resolve conflict of conscience and conflict of duty with the powers of this world?

The ethical, moral, Constitutional and spiritual responsibility to challenge authority, from the inside is not evidenced by carrying the label “Christian” or “conservative,” but acting in conscience.

In response to what happened in Texas and Governor Gavin Newsom’s Prop 50 to replicate what happened in Texas in the Democratic-controlled California legislature, former President Barack Obama shared “if Democrats “don’t respond effectively, then this White House and Republican-controlled state governments all across the country, they will not stop, because they do not appear to believe in this idea of an inclusive, expansive democracy.”

Prop 50 in California, also known as the Election Rigging Response Act “authorizes temporary changes to congressional district maps in response to Texas’ partisan redistricting.” In reading the Official Voter Information Guide for California, the argument for supporting this proposal was “to counter Donald Trump’s scheme to rig next year’s (2026) congressional election and reaffirms California’s commitment to independent, nonpartisan redistricting after the next census.”

Were there downsides to Prop 50? Sure, if, according to the Official Voter Information Guide one was interested in “dismantling safeguards that keep elections fair, remov[ing] requirements to keep local communities together, and eliminat[ing] voter protections that ban maps designed to favor political parties.” According to the California Secretary of State’s website, Prop 50 passed 7,453,339 to 4,116,998.

Instead of limiting the manipulative gerrymandering tools of packing and cracking to create favorable legislative districts once every 10 years, political parties are taking advantage of the legal and unusual opportunity to redistrict to impact mid-term elections for partisan gain. In essence, they are gerrymandering democracy at the expense of engaging and winning voters through their public policy platforms.

In addition to Texas and California, Missouri, Ohio and North Carolina have enacted partisan maps to gain an advantage for the 2026 congressional elections to gerrymander democracy. However, The Indiana State Senate, where the Republicans hold a supermajority, rejected a plan that would have fractured the black community in Indianapolis to increase more congressional districts for Indiana.

“Competition is healthy my friends,” said Indiana State Senator Fady Qaddoura. “Any political party on earth that cannot run and win based on the merit of its ideas is unworthy of governing.”

Cleveland was a personal acquaintance of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and actively engaged in organizations like the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). In 1989, Cleveland published “The Exodus,” prominently featuring MLK on the cover.

Cleveland’s experience was the opposite: “I can remember my childhood fear of police, who could stop you at any point and call you ‘boy’ or ‘nigger,’ and you dared not object for fear of having your skull laid open with a billy club or being shot to death on the spot.”

He also pointed out “that this suspicion of law enforcement carries through to the courtroom” and the legislative system that has “deliberately enacted laws that would demean, degrade, and debase all black people.”

Because of these legal disparities, the black community insists that the phrase “law and order” must come “with justice.” The brutal truths recorded by Cleveland continue to be reenacted and livestreamed almost daily, so similar sentiments persist among many.

I didn’t know what “Deacons” Cleveland was referring to until the 2003 movie “Deacons For Defense” (starring Forest Whitaker) came out. The Deacons for Defense and Justice was founded in 1964 in Jonesboro, Louisiana, by black veterans of WWII and the Korean War. They exercised their rights to bear arms to defend civil rights activists in their efforts to register voters, integrate public facilities, and protest for better working conditions.

There’s no indication that E.E. Cleveland had direct ties with the Deacons. Although the evangelist did evolve from only depending on God’s divine intervention when conducting tent meetings, to hiring “tent masters” who knew how to keep the peace.

“And all that believed were together, and had all things common; And sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need” (Acts 2:44-45, KJV).

In those days, the group of about 120 men and women, empowered by three years of following Jesus from Nazareth, radically broke all social hierarchies, customs and laws to live untraditionally in a highly traditional egalitarian community. They radically believed Jesus to be the Messiah. They had witnessed His compassionate teaching, His miraculous healing powers, and His selfless love for all humanity.

To develop such a strong sense of responsibility and accountability for one another, there had to be more than food and friendship drawing these followers together. This movement turned the world upside down.

In recent years, social justice programs such as financial literacy workshops, community gardens, and cultural preservation like celebrating Kwanzaa and Juneteenth still promote the co-op lifestyle. Yes, there is much more to community than that, and the church still presents a powerful witness of cooperative life, collective work, and the building of community, especially in the black experience.

Remember the early church’s approach: “All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need” (Acts 44-45).

Kwanzaa’s Umoja (unity), Kujichagulia (self-determination), Ujima (collective work and responsibility), Ujamaa (cooperative economics), Nia (purpose), Kuumba (creativity), and Imani (faith), emphasizes everything the first church experienced. The third and fourth principles, Ujima (collective work and responsibility), Ujamaa (cooperative economics), were the core values they applied as their personal lives became less important and the community — the kingdom of God — became the priority. As their lives appeared to be disrupted, their faith increased to the point of risking everything to follow Jesus.

One might reflect, react and respond to the current recession, discrimination and haunting reminder of the devices to destroy economic freedoms for black people. So, how did black people respond to the opposition then and what can we apply now to achieve positive outcomes in a negative environment? What are the principles and practices we can act upon now to get us through the rest of this decade and the next? How can culture and spiritual beliefs help maintain identity as people of the diaspora (African heritage) while building community, cooperative economics, and collective work and responsibility?

First, start at home. Joshua told the children of Israel:

“But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15). If you are single or partnering or married with children, pick a time and place to spend quality time, understanding and writing down the core values you hold and who they represent. Make a unified decision on how you will live out that belief as a family. Make it non-negotiable as a unit. As the adult in the family, set the example to live it out. Children live what they learn. Be mindful of how you practice your belief and faith in the presence of your offspring. The challenge for parents today is undoing the hands-off parenting that has blurred the lines.

Next, demonstrate unity, and collective work and responsibility.

“Let the children come to me and do not hinder them for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14). Jesus knew the importance of children being trained at a young age. He was. The Bible said He grew in wisdom and stature with God and man” (Luke 2:52). Children can be taught to help around the house as early as the toddler years. Putting toys back in their storage bin, clothes in the laundry basket, shoes in the closet, dishes in the dishwasher are first steps toward independence as well as family unity. Small children love every opportunity to get a high-five, applause or “good job” affirmations. Responsible children become responsible adults. Never mind what the latchkey generation had to say about their Baby Boomer parents. Believe it or not, the latter group had a great sense of collective work and responsibility was a necessity (and still is) as mothers worked outside the home.

Emphasize sibling and extended family (neighbors) support systems to manage childcare and household responsibilities.

The “Auntie” and “Uncle” nicknames weren’t casual terms. They were given to significant individuals who earned the cherished duties of loving and caring for the village tribe. The term “godparent” was later adopted but never replaced auntie and uncle roles. Communities of color understood that everyone didn’t have a black child’s best interest in mind. The importance of such wisdom is invaluable in today’s environment.

When it comes to cooperative economics, wealth building and giving cannot be overstated. Jesus told the parable of a rich young ruler who fancied his wealth over serving and helping others. Where did that get him! Jesus didn’t throw him under the bus, but it probably felt like it.

“But when the young man heard that saying, he went away sorrowful: for he had great possessions” (Matthew 19:22, emphasis supplied). Right now may not be the time to sell everything and go follow Jesus. However, when, not if, that time comes, purpose in your heart to do all that is required of you. Do you really need a bigger barn? There are two principles of giving in the Bible that seem like polar opposites.

In Malachi 3, God rebukes His people for not returning a tenth of all that they received from His blessings throughout the year. Imagine having to bring cattle, fruits, vegetables, herbs, grains, seeds, bedding, furniture, clothing, jewelry, whatever you acquired through the barter/consumer trade system of your community, once a year on your journey to Jerusalem. Depending on the age of the children, it would be a family hiatus.

Thank God for current currency. Because it seems the people grew tired of the pilgrimage and were not sending it along with Cousin Jonah. Tithing predates government taxes; but it did a better job of caring for God’s people. You didn’t have to wait for tax season to get a refund; God opened heaven’s windows and poured out blessings that the people didn’t have room to store, so much so, that giving was sewn into the fabric of the culture.

“Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again” (KJV).

Ujima Ujamaa isn’t hocus pocus or rocket science. It is the law of nature, what goes around comes back around.

Remember the story of Fannie Lou Hamer from rural Mississippi? During the 1960s Hamer fought for voting rights in the most racist state in the Union. However, she also realized that voting rights didn’t put food in the mouths of hungry children. Hamer raised money from philanthropic donations and started a co-op community garden which became known as the Freedom Farm Cooperative (FFC). The FFC grew vegetables, cotton and soybeans. They also secured livestock from a “pig bank” program. Hamer, practicing Acts 2 and Ugamaa, incorporated her faith into practical support for the community she loved and served.

1. Assess friends, family, and neighbors for financial literacy. Host a small group class on growing wealth or debt reduction. Set goals for the new year using available programs that are group oriented. Example, Every Dollar, Operation HOPE, Bridge Builders Foundation (BBF), and BlackFem. [Google it].
2. Start a healthy hot meal for seniors in the apartment complex or cul de sac. Keep the sodium, oils, and refined sugar minimal to be sensitive to health concerns. If a small charge is necessary, they won’t mind paying it.
3. Organizations or businesses can plan a break for young mothers; they don’t have to be single. Every mother of young children needs a break! Her own playdate. Some young mothers may feel too overwhelmed and a sense of guilt to admit they need a break. Call it, “Kids Night Out!” Games, crafts, and pizza go a long way with kids.
4. Organize a community “Vehicle Oil Change” for single parents. Collaborate with a local oil change station. Ask vendors for discounts; oil changes range between $60-$89. Get donations from your friends and others and post on social media with a sign up. Eventbrite.com is free to post and has a countdown for limited ticket sales (although free, single parents need a ticket for the free oil change).
5. Rehab centers and nursing homes always welcome volunteers and donations. Contact a nearby rehab or nursing home to inquire how to be of service: repairs, refurbishing, reading to patients; the list goes on. Find connection possibly with a long-term patient and make a difference.

There are 1,000 ways to practice Ujima Ujamaa all year long. If “to whom much is given much is required,” here is a chance to level up and shine.

Commonalities in Missing Persons Cases
It is easy to overlook the sheer volume of people who are missing at any given time in North America. The National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, a Department of Justice agency, estimates nearly 100,000 persons are reported missing at any given time in the United States, with as many as 600,000 reported annually.

Circumstances surrounding missing persons cases are often enveloped in mystery, making them uncomfortable to think about or even to understand. Generally, people disappear either of their own volition or involuntarily. If missing persons choose to run away, they are often facing an extreme situation or trial that necessitates their decision. This can include mental health issues, abuse, or neglect. Victims may also have been in positions that made them vulnerable to going missing, such as homelessness and other forms of instability. Conversely, if missing persons are taken against their will, they may be victims of crime, such as abduction.

After being handed off to the police, significant efforts from external organizations go into retrieving missing persons. Professor by day and investigator by night, Dr. Sarah Miller’s work with Trace Labs represents one such non-governmental organization making strides in aiding communities with the recovery of their missing loved ones.

Trace Labs operates solely on donations and support from interested parties, with a mission to pull together significant amounts of information from open-source intelligence to facilitate missing persons investigations. Their services garner support in the form of volunteers from across the globe, people old and young, excited about making a major difference in the lives of families and the missing victims.

Once police have asked the public for help with certain cases, Trace Labs stages a comprehensive screening process and deploys volunteers to scour the internet with a variety of hacking and coding tactics for information — names, dates, addresses, etc. — that may help the police retrieve a select few missing persons. The mass online searches, or “search party events,” are gamified collective efforts. At times, event themes align with the victims’ backgrounds, especially minority groups whose cases tend to be overlooked the most.

Missing persons cases represent a diverse array of backgrounds, both in demographic makeup and in life experiences. Of the 600,000 cases that are reported annually, 40% of victims come from minority backgrounds. Trace Labs is not alone in its mission to bring light to these victims’ stories. The Black and Missing Foundation (BAMF), founded in 2008 by Derrica and Natalie Wilson, remains focused on highlighting black missing persons. The organization came about at a pivotal moment, a period where society’s biases toward white missing persons cases were finally being acknowledged.

In June 2004, Tamika Huston, a 24-year-old Spartanburg, South Carolina native, was reported missing. The young black woman was by all accounts a kind, sharp, and focused individual. The Huston family anticipated a deluge of national media attention for the nature of the case; how unorthodox it was to have a beautiful, promising young woman disappear so suddenly.

To their horror, the case stalled, barely attracting local news coverage. Compared to young white women who had disappeared under similar circumstances, Huston’s story may well have been buried for the sheer lack of attention it garnered. The Hustons’ strenuous efforts eventually culminated in her story being circulated in national media, which quickly led to a tip in the case. Ultimately, national media attention gave the Hustons the closure they deserved.

BAMF used Huston’s story as a cautionary tale about the damaging effects that media disparities between minority communities and others truly have. BAMF focuses on improving visibility in black missing persons cases to garner awareness and support for their stories.

The Black Community Perspective
Black individuals comprise only about 13% of the United States population, but they make up 16% of total missing persons cases. Disproportionate statistics for minority groups in the context of missing persons speak to the broader theme of a lack of interest and attention to their stories. The Brookings Institution’s Jada Moss found a marked underrepresentation and misrepresentation of black individuals — particularly children — in mainstream news and media.

Clear differences exist in investigation and resource allocation on the basis of race, both in law enforcement and in the media. “Missing White Woman Syndrome,” a phenomenon that describes the “overabundance of coverage that mainstream media outlets dedicate to missing persons cases of white women,” is a key correlating factor Moss points to in the lack of coverage for missing people of color. Media — be it digital, print, etc. — are the predominant forms of spreading information. In a society where collective attention is fixed on stories with the most clicks or views, in the words of BAMF’s Natalie Wilson: “equal coverage saves lives.”

David Person echoes Moss’ and Wilson’s sentiments, claiming that law enforcement tends to take cases more seriously when they are accompanied by increased media attention. A media consultant, journalist, and social justice advocate, one of Person’s many areas of passion is his production work on the podcast series “Finding Tamika.” Alongside earning accolades such as the duPont-Columbia Award for excellence in journalism, the compelling story “Finding Tamika” points to the reality that the missing case of a young black woman must spar with media for the same coverage as a white counterpart, no matter how sensational the circumstances.

Implications for the Black Community
Racial disparities in the media in missing persons cases are a difficult pill to swallow; no one person or people are directly at fault for the implicit biases built into this system. However, acknowledging the imbalance should be taken as an opportunity to fight for change. Understanding existing media biases is an asset to the black community. It is information that can push us to advocate for our people and affect change in the way media approaches the missing cases of blacks.

Missing persons are recovered by community members. Whether it be through tips about locations or suspicious activity, scouring the web for information, or advocacy and support such as BAMF provides, bringing our lost brothers and sisters home depends on how we relate to each victim and humanize their cases in ways that incentivize us to fight for them and uplift their voices when they cannot.

Wilson, Person, and others agree that the final, most important thing to remember is hope. Addressing media disparities and pushing for change is important. But when these cases finally receive the attention they need, it is equally important to rely on faith and hope to bring our lost brothers and sisters home. According to Wilson, God covers the cases and the communities when these situations arise. God is the ultimate driving force in guiding missing persons home. His unconditional love prevails when our missing loved ones are in darkness.

hough the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.” – Proverbs 24:16

Sarah sits in her car outside the oncology clinic, staring at test results that just redefined her future. Marcus opens another rejection letter, his third this month, wondering if his career is over at age 52. Elena discovers the affair through a text message left open on her husband’s phone.

None of them saw it coming.

Research shows that 70% of people worldwide have experienced at least one traumatic event. Yet here’s what the statistics don’t capture: within the shattered pieces of these moments lies the raw material for something extraordinary. While storms may break us for a season, with God, they don’t have to destroy us forever.

The invitation extends far beyond survival. We are called to become antifragile. Not merely bouncing back, but growing stronger because of what tried to break us.

Seven Times…
Notice something striking about Proverbs 24:16: it doesn’t say the righteous might fall or fall once. It says “seven times.” Repeatedly. The Hebrew word for “righteous” here doesn’t mean perfect people. It describes those who maintain their relationship with God despite challenges.

Trauma isn’t just what happens to us, it’s what happens within us when our fundamental assumptions about safety, fairness, and control shatter. Like Job crying out from ash heaps, the Bible doesn’t sanitize human anguish. It meets us in the midst of it.

Here’s what searching trauma survivors often discover: God never asks us to fake being fine. He invites us to bring our whole, hurting selves into His presence and promises to help us rise and rebuild.

The Rise
Rising begins not with feeling better, but with a single, defiant choice: I will not let this define my story.

Rising looks different for everyone. For Sarah, it meant scheduling the surgery while researching clinical trials. For Marcus, it meant applying for one more position while volunteering at a local nonprofit. For Elena, it meant calling a counselor while deciding whether her marriage could be saved.

Rising requires direction and determination. We call on resilience and realize it is forged, not in the absence of hardship, but in the presence of God amid hardship.

Once standing, we begin to rebuild.

The Rebuild
Here’s what most people miss: rebuilding is never simply about restoration, it’s about transformation. Our foundation is Christ, and when we rebuild on Him, we discover that broken places, properly healed, become stronger than the original. Healing begins when we stop rewriting our story and start owning it.

Sarah had to admit she was terrified. Marcus had to own his part in workplace conflicts. Elena had to acknowledge that her marriage had problems long before the affair.

Here is where the seeds of resilience need cultivation to bear fruit. No glamour or glitz but here is where our daily nurturing discipline will help us to rebuild:

• Scripture reading transforms how we interpret our circumstances.
• Prayer shifts our perspective from victim to beloved.
• Sabbath rest reminds us we’re human beings, not human doings.
• Silence creates space for God to speak into our chaos.

Remember that God also heals us through other people.

• We need listeners who don’t rush to fix us, encouragers who see our potential when we can’t, counselors who guide us through psychological debris, and spiritual mentors who help us find God in the wreckage. Use discernment and embrace them, don’t shut them out.

Time invested in these fruitful areas bears good fruit.

Stronger Because of, Not Despite
Some systems break under stress. Others bounce back. But the most remarkable ones, what Lebanese-American scholar Nassim Taleb calls “antifragile,” grow stronger because of stress. This is God’s ultimate goal for us.

Consider Peter. His denial of Christ should have disqualified him from leadership. Instead, it became the crucible that forged his later courage. Paul’s thorn in the flesh didn’t disappear, but it became the very thing that amplified his ministry. Their brokenness wasn’t erased, it was integrated.

The antifragile life doesn’t erase the past; it alchemizes it. Pain becomes compassion. Betrayal births wisdom. Loss generates capacity for deeper joy.

Your Next Chapter Starts Now
Maybe you’re reading this from the midst of your own challenge. Here’s truth: this isn’t your ending. It’s your restructuring. The storm didn’t write your final chapter, it cleared the ground for a stronger foundation.

So, rise, rebuild! Not because you feel ready, but because you’re called to.

Daily Prayer
“Lord, use what hurt me to help me. Rebuild what broke me. And restore what was lost, in Your time and in Your way. Amen”

n early 2020, I found myself directly observing the profound physical, mental, and emotional trauma unleashed by the Coronavirus (COVID-19). My wife, India, a registered nurse and hospital executive, stood at the front lines, confronting uncertainties and fear, and the stark realities of physical and emotional isolation. Each day she faced miraculous recoveries and the painful reality of loss, yet she continued to show up.

As an African American male with insulin-dependent diabetes, I found myself at heightened risk for COVID-19 and other co-morbidities, which can swiftly lead to irreversible damage to vital organs and potentially result in death.

Nationally, hundreds of thousands of black and brown individuals fall into this high-risk category — communities where COVID-19 exacerbates existing health disparities, as reflected in disproportionately high death tolls.

Factors contributing to these disparities included reduced access to quality healthcare, inflexible low-wage employment, lack of paid sick leave, overrepresentation in correctional and immigration detention facilities, and inadequate housing conditions. These long-standing inequities led to heightened rates of COVID-19 infection, hospitalization, and death among racial and ethnic minority populations in the U.S. (Prevention of Chronic Disorders, 2023).

America was unprepared for this pandemic, which escalated into a national public health crisis. Initial medical assessments indicated underlying contributing factors leading to increased hospitalizations and suffering related to the virus.

Disparity Abolitionist
As a non-clinician man of faith, I sought ways to contribute positively. During this challenging time, I turned to God, asking about my responsibility. As a religious leader in a faith-based organization, I believe we are called to be health disparity abolitionists and not simply spiritual spectators in this critical current new season of health care apartheid in America.

In my consistent inquiry to God for divine wisdom, He clearly and directly downloaded the concept of DELIVERANCE to my mind and heart.

The biblical narrative reveals that the quest for deliverance began with the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Eden, signifying humanity’s captivity. Throughout biblical history, deliverance was exemplified during the enslavement in Egypt and Babylon, culminating in Christ’s incarnation and the prophetic promise of renewal in His Second Coming. The term DELIVERANCE encompasses a profound historical context, particularly emphasizing the African Diaspora, while also offering hope for both the present and future wellness as designed by God.

The acronym DELIVERANCE starts with the letter D, which stands for Data. Without delving into technical terminology or the complexities of multi-scientific analysis, we can say that data answers crucial questions about origins: Who are you, and where did you come from? Moreover, data addresses how individual branches connect to the overall family tree. It reveals a generational perspective on family history concerning health, genetic inheritance, and physiological characteristics passed down through the generations. Understanding these critical factors is the starting point in the deliverance process. The more you know about your family’s wholistic history, the better you will understand yourself.

Understanding your data is a proactive response in this current society that often attempts to reshape history to whitewash a false narrative of America’s past, which in turn justifies ongoing discrimination against our communities. The deeper the data, the clearer the analysis becomes in explaining the causes and the unjust rationale underlying your existence within the imperfect American experiment. My intentional brokenness, once articulated, becomes the foundation for addressing the past and moving toward my deliverance and contribution to society.

To experience the liberation of DELIVERANCE: Rooted in Wellness, we must begin with personal self-assessment through Data.

Each letter in DELIVERANCE corresponds to a set of personal action items to help move the process forward. Below are a set of questions to help you discover your personal data past and future.

As a black man in America, I have a unique perspective on justice. While I’d like to believe that it is fair and blind, it was very clear to me from a young age that justice has astigmatism. I’ve known of people who have been unfairly treated, handled, or even arrested and jailed by a system that was never built to accommodate those who look like me. In fact, I’ve unfortunately had to teach my children that the hammer of justice may not give them the benefit of the doubt or a second chance, even when they’ve done nothing wrong. And there was always a part of me that knew that a time would come when problems I faced as an African-American would slowly become everyone’s problems.

Recently, I have become increasingly more disturbed at the injustices that have impacted our black and brown brothers and sisters at the hands of rogue ICE agents. As if answering a nefarious call, these agents have ripped people out of school car lines, classrooms, and even appointments to maintain their residency or further the path to citizenship without due process. Because of these aggressive tactics, other innocent American citizens have been harmed, detained, or even killed.

But where I would expect other Christians, church-goers, and pastors to rally against harsh treatment, I’ve been grieved by the realization that the church community ignores, is apathetic, or even, in worse cases, champions the injustice. Many have abandoned the Bible’s clear directive regarding immigrants.

Deuteronomy 27:19 tells us, “Cursed is anyone who withholds justice from the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow.” And I want us to know that “withholding” justice can mean ignoring what’s going on around us or being complacent about the reports we read every day.

We cannot take on the idea that Jesus is coming soon, so that we don’t have to do anything. While awaiting his return, it is our Christian duty to stand up for the weak, love and clothe the foreigner, and show hospitality to the stranger.

God is love; everything God does for us is through the eyes of love. Zechariah 2:8 paints a beautiful picture of His love for us. We are the “apple of His eye.”

1. How does it feel to know that you are loved unconditionally, despite your pain, what you have done, and how broken and hurting you are?
2. Review your life. How have you seen God’s love demonstrated?

• 1 John 4:16
• John 3:16
• Jeremiah 31:3
• Isaiah 43:4
• 1 John 4:9-10
• Romans 8:31-38
• Romans 5:8

• Romans 8:31-38
• Romans 5:8

– From The Joy of the Disinherited

It was only after encountering Thurman’s writing that I began to truly understand the power of sitting still and doing the deep, internal reflective work he described as performing surgery on the psyche. His words helped me name the quiet inner wrestling that many of us carry. They helped me see how the condition of our inner lives shapes our ability to experience joy.

Season after season, that rosebush in Ella Mae’s yard stood in the same place. Some years, it bloomed with quiet, stubborn beauty. Other years, it sat bare, stripped by weather and time. Yet whether it was full or empty, whether life was visible or hidden beneath the surface, it remained. It was constant.

Around Mother’s Day, the roses always seemed to bloom at the right moment, almost like a promise kept. We would clip them and bring them to the mothers gathered at my grandmother’s home after church. Those simple moments have stayed with me because they capture the essence of joy. Joy is often quiet and steady. It is easy to overlook and profoundly real.

It has not always felt like that rosebush for me. Several years ago, I slipped into an arresting depression, and I had to slowly fight my way back to joy, to the joy I feared had left me.

I struggled to understand that joy is steady. I struggled to understand that joy is rooted. I struggled to understand that joy remains even when everything around me feels uncertain.

There was a moment when I realized that joy was not something I could create through sheer effort. I tried to pray my way to joy, convinced that God had abandoned me, drifting in and out of pleas for God to show me what I had done wrong. But joy did not come as a reward for spiritual performance. It revealed itself as the quiet and steady assurance that God had been with me all along.

Still, I must admit that sometimes joy must be fought for. The realities of daily life can make joy feel far away. When you are navigating challenges at work or carrying the weight of a strained relationship or worrying about your children, joy can seem like something other people talk about but that you cannot touch.

And when you lift your eyes to the wider world, the heaviness grows. We are living through a time marked by fear, uncertainty, and deep division. Families are stretched thin. Communities are fraying. Many people feel unsteady. These realities are not small. They touch how we move through each day.

This is why we must never confuse joy with happiness. Happiness rises and falls with circumstances. Joy does not. Faith does not ask us to deny what is happening around us. Joy does not require us to ignore reality. Joy grows from the truth that, despite what is happening in our individual and collective lives, we can rest because who God is does not change. The world will do its best to convince us that joy is not possible. Yet joy is especially available to believers. And it does not matter your faith tradition, because every faith tradition points back to a God who knows all, sees all, and holds all power.

This is why joy remains possible even when life is difficult.

Joy becomes our inheritance. It becomes a rosebush in winter and in spring. It becomes the quiet reminder that what looks bare is still alive. It becomes the truth that steadies us when life is uncertain. It becomes the evidence that God has not left us.

The path to joy is deeply personal. Many of us know what it means to have our experience in this world deny us of our core truths — that we are loved and that we are worthy. Oppression has a way of reshaping our identities in its own shadow. It can distort how we see ourselves and what we believe is possible.

This makes Howard Thurman’s wisdom essential when writing about the delicate surgery of the psyche that the disinherited must undergo to reclaim their full humanity. This work matters because joy is not separate from identity. Joy grows when we recover the truth about who we are and whose we are. When we return to that inward center, we discover that joy was never gone. Joy was simply waiting for us to remember.

eligious belief is often presented as a system; ideas arranged carefully, doctrines stacked in order, truths defined and defended. For many people, this makes faith feel abstract or inaccessible, more concerned with correctness than with meaning. Christianity can begin to sound like a set of answers rather than an invitation.

The Bible tells a different story.

Rather than offering a catalog of beliefs, Scripture unfolds as a unified witness to a single life. Laws, poems, prophecies, histories, warnings, and promises are not presented as isolated truths but as movements within one story, one that finds its coherence in Jesus. The New Testament repeatedly insists that He is not simply one figure within the biblical narrative, but the lens through which the entire narrative must be read.

Jesus Himself makes this claim. He tells religious leaders that the Scriptures they study so carefully point directly to Him. After His resurrection, He walks with two discouraged followers and reinterprets Israel’s sacred writings — law, prophets, and poetry — not as moral lessons or historical artifacts, but as testimony about His life, suffering, and restoration of the world.

Scripture, in this telling, does not merely anticipate Christ; it depends on Him for its meaning.

This challenges a familiar way Christian teaching is often organized. Jesus is frequently placed at the center of a theological system, with beliefs arranged around Him; important, connected, yet functionally independent. In such a model, Jesus anchors the structure, but the structure can still stand apart from Him. The center is honored, yet replaceable.

The biblical witness presses further.

Jesus is not the hub of a system; He is the substance. He is not the final addition to an already complete picture of God; He is the picture that makes sense of everything else. Scripture describes Him as the Word through whom God speaks, the cornerstone by which understanding is measured, and the exact expression of God’s character. This means that earlier revelations —though sincere and inspired — were partial and humanly mediated. In Christ, something fundamentally different occurs: God is no longer explained; He is embodied.

If this is true, then Christian teaching cannot merely reference Jesus, it must reveal Him. Beliefs are not abstract propositions about God, humanity, or the future. They are perspectives on a single reality, seen from different angles. Like turning a diamond in the light, each teaching reflects another facet of the same life; Jesus seen through creation, justice, rest, suffering, hope, and restoration.

Why This Matters
This reframing matters because it reshapes what faith is and how it functions in real life. When beliefs are detached from Jesus, they tend to become intellectual hurdles, identity markers, or tools of argument. When they are reconnected to Him, they become windows, ways of seeing reality more clearly and living within it more honestly.

For those exploring Christianity, this approach removes the pressure to first accept a system before encountering a person. It invites attention not to institutional claims, but to a life worth examining. For those who follow Christ, it challenges the habit of treating teachings as ends in themselves rather than as guides into deeper relationship.

The reflections that follow are offered in this spirit. They are not a checklist for belonging, a framework for debate, nor the arsenal for theological combat. They are invitations to see Jesus more fully; how He relates to the world, to humanity, to suffering, to justice, and to hope. Each section turns the diamond slightly, allowing another aspect of His character and mission to come into view.

The Word That Speaks: Scripture as the Living Witness to Jesus
“Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me” (John 5:39, KJV).

From its opening lines to its final vision, Scripture presents itself as testimony. Not testimony about humanity’s search for God, but testimony about God’s pursuit of humanity. And at the center of that testimony stands Jesus.

The Gospel of John opens with a startling declaration: “In the beginning was the Word.”

This does not merely mean that God spoke words, but that God’s primary way of communicating Himself is personal, embodied, and relational. Jesus is described not simply as a messenger of God, but as God’s own speech; His meaning made visible, His character made tangible. In this sense, Scripture is not the Word in competition with Jesus; it is the written witness that introduces us to the living Word.

Within the story of Jesus, God is revealed as personal and relational. Jesus speaks to God as Father, not as a metaphor but as a real relationship of trust, love, and shared purpose. He also speaks of the Holy Spirit as another divine Person who teaches, guides, comforts, convicts, and acts with intention and will. The Spirit is not an impersonal force or vague influence, but God personally present and active, continuing the mission of the Father and the Son in the lives of human beings.

Together, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are revealed not as three gods, nor as one God appearing in different disguises, but as a unified divine fellowship, distinct in personhood, equal in divinity, and eternally united in purpose, character, and love. Scripture does not invite speculation about internal hierarchies or metaphysical origins within God. Instead, it calls attention to how God has made Himself known: through Jesus, by the Spirit, in relationship with the Father.

Why This Matters
This understanding matters because how we imagine God shapes how we live. A distant God produces fear or indifference. A controlling God legitimizes domination. An impersonal God offers no comfort in suffering. But a God revealed in Jesus — personal, relational, self-giving, and faithful — invites trust rather than terror, love rather than coercion, and hope rather than resignation.

For those exploring faith, this means the central question is not whether one can immediately accept every theological formulation about God, but whether Jesus is worthy of attention and trust. His life becomes the invitation. For those who follow Him, it means that all claims about God must continually be measured against Christ’s character and way of being in the world.

To know God, Christianity insists, is not to master a concept, but to encounter a living reality. Jesus does not merely point toward God; He shows us who God is. And through the Father He reveals and the Spirit He gives, we are invited into that same life-giving relationship.

The Father Revealed by the Son John 14:9
When people hear the word “Father” applied to God, it often carries emotional weight before theological meaning. For some, it evokes care, protection, and belonging. For others, it recalls distance, disappointment, or harm. These experiences shape how the idea of God is received, sometimes more powerfully than any religious teaching.

Christian faith does not ask people to imagine God as Father based on human experience alone. Instead, it makes a more specific claim: God is known as “Father” because Jesus reveals Him that way.

Jesus’ humanity matters because it grounds faith in reality. He experiences hunger, fatigue, grief, temptation, friendship, rejection, and loss. He does not float above the human condition, nor does He escape it through divine shortcuts. His life unfolds within the same limits that define human existence, revealing what trust, obedience, and love look like when lived under pressure. In Him, humanity is neither rejected nor erased, but healed and honored.

At the same time, Jesus’ divinity matters because His life is more than an example; it is revelation. He does not merely show a better way to live; He shows what God is like. His authority flows not from coercion but from truth.

His power is expressed not through domination but through restoration. His holiness is revealed not by separation from broken people but by bringing wholeness where brokenness reigns.

The resurrection is presented not as a spiritual metaphor, but as a divine response. God does not abandon Jesus to injustice or allow death to have the final word. The resurrection affirms that Jesus’ way of life — self-giving love, truth without violence, obedience without fear — is not naïve or doomed, but victorious. It is God’s declaration that life, not death, defines reality.

After His resurrection, Jesus does not retreat from humanity. He remains present, active, and engaged, continuing His work of restoration and hope, and promising a future in which the world itself is made new. His story does not end with escape from earth, but with renewal of it.

Why This Matters
This matters because a God who only acted in the past offers inspiration but not transformation. A God who only waits in the future offers hope but not help. The Holy Spirit reveals a God who is present, working within the tension of real life, meeting people where they are, and patiently reshaping them toward what they were created to be.

For those exploring faith, the Spirit explains why Christianity speaks not only of belief, but of change. Faith is not merely agreeing with ideas; it is responding to a living presence. For those who follow Christ, the Spirit guards against turning Jesus into a memory or doctrine. He keeps faith dynamic, relational, and embodied.

The Holy Spirit is not an accessory to Christian belief, nor a substitute for human effort. He is God with us now, guiding, restoring, empowering, and sustaining life until the work begun in Christ is brought to completion.