My God is not the same as yours, but that’s okay. I have been feeling on my heart lately a lot of words that I want to say considering the pain that our country, friends, families and communities have endured over the past 8 months. From a pandemic, to the BLM movement, to now a historical election, I’m here to talk about God. And as I said before, our God’s might not be the same. Writing is the way that I have always best expressed myself, so here is what is on my heart: 

I started writing a book in January that is called “God Things.” God things is a saying that, if you know me, comes out of my mouth often. I would not consider myself to be an extremely religious person with a church and a bible full of highlights, but I do know a God. And this God took me many, many years to know. In highschool, I considered myself to be a full blown atheist. “If God was real why did my grandpa die unexpectedly?” “If God was real why can’t I see Him?” I think that these questions are the best to ask ourselves. WHY is God real? How is God real? Where is God? I can feel my family scoffing at these questions as many are very religious, but I encourage you to hang with me. 

It took my grandpa being ripped from my family for me to truly start to feel God’s work. My grandpa was a firm believer in God, and was the loudest person singing in the church. I used to be embarrassed by this and my cousins and I would smirk at each other as he would hit the high notes, but now I would give anything to hear it again. His God was loving, trustworthy and compassionate and in turn, so was my grandpa. After his passing, I felt my family come together like no other. I felt signs from my grandpa everywhere I went. Especially when I traveled to Barcelona by myself at the ripe age of 18. I remember walking past a cathedral and seeing the lyrics of “Ave Maria” carved into the side, the same lyrics sang at his funeral. As I walked around the cathedral, a man was sitting on a bucket playing the song “Hallelujah.” I remember vividly feeling a squeeze on my hand. God things. 

At first many of these signs felt like coincidences. I used to refer to them as “the good in the bad.” Just one piece of light that happened in a time where God seemed to be missing. I remember my senior year my teacher, Mrs. Smith was reading us essays that people wrote about what they believed in. I was so moved by this I went home (yes, ditched school like every other day) and wrote one myself. My starting line was “I believe in the good through the bad.” Now, at the age of 22, I want to say that I believe in God, because He is the good. This journey of finding my faith did not come without what felt like, “Godless moments” but there was always a squeeze in my hand reminding me to keep looking.

It is no surprise to everyone that I am passionate about many things, I have been told this since I was 2 years old. I have always been loud and outspoken and confident enough to do so. But I know now that this voice of mine is meant to spread love, and despite how it could come out, my intentions remain pure. At times, I feel like I should not say so much, stop stating my opinion or even get off social media entirely (I’m sure some of you would like that 😉 ) but this is not that time. I believe that now more than ever I need to talk to you about my God, and about how He has encouraged me to stand up for what I believe is right, whether or not you agree. 

I grew up in Marshall, where even the name of it sounds white. It was not until merging with Albion that I experienced more diverse classrooms and people. I noticed differing opinions from the merge which resulted in differing treatment from the staff and fellow students. I became interested in school funding and especially school funding in inner city districts that affect majority minority groups. Here is where I noticed many injustices for black people and people of color. 

I reflected my studies at James Madison College at Michigan State University to reflect my interest in social injustices by studying Social Relations and Policy and Psychology. In these programs I was given knowledge that I felt was entirely missing from all my history classes growing up. Stories of mass incarceration, housing inequalities, public school funding inequities and SO much more. But let me add that these are not just stories of the past, these are occurring right now. Knowledge that can be clumped together and known as systematic racism. Now, many of you will get to this point and decide you do not agree with me and stop reading. I encourage you to continue because this is just a piece of what I want you to know. 

My time at Michigan State brought me to some of my best friends. Many whom, are black. I have seen how this time has affected them directly. I have been in the car with them as we passed a cop on the street and seen their demeanor change. I have held hands with a black man as we walked on the street, passed a cop and felt him squeeze my hand tighter. I have had the conversations with them on how they felt safer that I was there, just because I was white. I have listened to their stories of the looks, and the fear that they have everyday just because of the color of their skin. I think now is the time to look into your life and ask yourself if you are having these conversations? Are you friends with black people or trying to understand their side? If not, why? 

I was not seeking this knowledge during that time the way that I am now. I did not even apply to be a James Madison student. My mom always says to me that things “fall into my lap” or that I am “lucky.” This could be partly true, but I believe that my God put me in these situations to gain this knowledge. I believe that it is truly my duty to rely on what I know onto you. If it wasn’t, why would He have made me so opinionated? (hehe) And not for political benefits but because this is my heart. And when I feel something is not right, I have no choice but to speak on it. This started when a kid was being bullied in the bus line when I was in kindergarten, or when my cousin was beating up my other cousin and I threw a shoe at him, this is who I have always been. 

I keep saying “my God” because I have spent a lot of time thinking about what I believe in, praying on it and also practicing it. I went from writing poems about Him not being real to writing a book on how I found Him to be. Through this I have found confidence in who I am, and shifting my expectations of people to reflect that. A passage from God Things reads, “Over the years I have continued to appreciate the good in the bad. I have even started to look for it. I think that’s when faith really changes, when you begin to seek it as if you are seeking parts of yourself.” I am still seeking parts of myself but now I am not doing it alone. 

Here is what I want you to take out of this. God is loving, God is helpful, God loves everyone and God is not greedy. I want you to take a look at our country and think about how you feel God is working through you to help others. How can you be a better person? How can you stick up for someone? I am proud of this woman and I will continue to have hard conversations to help get over the empathy wall. I will listen to things that do not always reflect my views and I will hear your God, too. I hope that you heard mine.