The other day our family took an after-dinner walk/bike ride to the little playground just up the street in Davis Park. We found this. I (jason) imagined an angry adolescent boy, with nothing (thankfully) but a piece of chalk to express his anger with his circumstances. We let our kids play there anyway. They got all sweaty and loved it and didn't want to go home when it was bedtime. They never saw the writing.
Seeing this made me want to really try to understand the struggle that African-Americans have had in our country. Maybe I'll get a chance to meet that young man one of these days and try to understand his struggle, for God gave us a Spirit not of fear, but of power and love and self-control.
I'm thankful that Caitlin is learning, even if only by imitation, to pray for these things early on...
Wow! It sure is different down there, huh? Much love and prayer to your family. What a precious picture of your kids on their knees. :-)
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