The Unclad Soul

I did not grow up being challenged to think for myself, about other races, about other religions, about anything that was different from or opposite of the ideas, beliefs, and values of my parents. My parents were loving and sincere, but fear guided their beliefs and their behavior. Fear of God’s punishment, fear of wrongdoing before the church, fear of what others thought about them, and so on. And that fear was communicated to me and my siblings. And it shaped, as is the case in most homes, how I viewed myself and the world. It was a confining and strict influence that often filled me with fears as well. This kind of parenting was common in my day, though I did have friends whose parents were much more lenient, open-minded, not fearful of others or new ideas, but willing to think through things and see a different perspective. I readily noticed that in those friends and their parents. Publicly, I spoke against them, saying they were liberal, or not real Christians, ...

Ingrid and her cousin Hannah and I walked the entire March For Your Lives in Dallas last Saturday. Ingrid was a bit hesitant when I invited her to join me. She was afraid there might be problems. Maybe a bomb. Or violent protestors. Or a shooter. I told her there would be plenty of police and security, though I knew in my own mind there are always risks at these kinds of events. She decided to go and Hannah came with us as well. I wanted the girls to have a sense of social conscience, to be a part of something historic and hopefully, a catalyst for change in our violent weary nation. The crowd was energetic, diverse, and respectful. There were chants and tons of creative signs and posters. There were ongoing conversations in the crowd. I sensed that people are genuinely worried about our nation. And they want change. Now. I never saw one protestor. There were no hecklers or angry people pushing back against the march. That says to me that most people realize something ...