I call you God for them, not for me. For me you are Father. I know that the ease with which I name you this is a reflection of the esteem I place on my own natural father. I know that this is a luxury that shouldn’t be (but is) a privilege. I know that my worship of you is the offspring of my admiration for him. A black father, gives way to a black God, or at least my feeble envisioning of a deity I’m unable to grasp. I’m aware that there is no religion between us. That is in itself freedom, luxury, and unfortunately privilege. Tell me again, how I am to effect (affect) this society. Tell me why it needs me, and how my hatred of it, only seems to punish me. It (they) doesn’t deserve me. Yet as a man who has benefited from many undeserved blessings myself; I have to be generous.
2 thoughts on “Dear God,”
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