Church, Where Are Your Tears?

Some wise words from a good friend of mine.

De Opresso Liber

I was born to a middle-class (remember when that was a thing?), white family in the United States of America. Both of my parents have college degrees, love each other immensely and provided a childhood that was blissfully full of books, horses, and days spent tramping through the woods with my siblings. But I never saw any of this as “privileged”. It was just my life. I never had new clothes, regularly ate leftovers, and had to start working at 16 to pay for my truck. I truly didn’t believe I was anymore privileged than any of my friends. Then I started actively expanding my understanding of the world and the life experiences of others in it. I already knew, yes, I was incredibly privileged to have been born in America. But then I stumbled upon the concept of white privilege. Talk about an unpleasant wake up.

I was always…

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