I do not know if these hands will become

Malcolm’s – raised and fisted

or Martin’s – open and asking

or James’s – curled around a pen.

I do not know if these hands will be


or Ruby’s

gently gloved

and fiercely folded

calmly in a lap,

on a desk,

around a book,


to change the world…

Jacqueline Woodson, Brown Girl Dreaming

What story do your hands tell? What do your hands open toward? How will you change the world?

The dead who are with us

Today would have been my dad’s 88th birthday. He died on Palm Sunday, April 5, 2020 and I am still waiting to be able to travel in order to hold a funeral. As we are opening up, we are bringing our losses and dead with us.

How do we remember, grieve and lay to rest our losses? Our layer upon layer of trauma?

Where does it hurt?

painting by Christy Baker

I am from Charlottesville

burning torches winding their way

through trauma ancient and new

embodied, colliding, rising

Where does it hurt? Ruby Sales asked

truth revealed while always known

O God, we are the problem!

Eyes opened I wrestle Jacob like

Who is the God I worship?

Olam chesed yibaneh (we will build this world from love)

There are events and times in our lives that cause us to reevaluate everything we thought we knew or believed. What have been those moments in your live? How have they changed you?