As I tried to wrap my head around Atatiana Jefferson’s death, I realized that we neglect that Christ wasn’t just put on Earth to save us. He came as an example, holding a mirror to how we're supposed to live. My Father is love and my Word says that love is patient and kind, and does not rejoice about injustice.
So when I think about Atatiana Jefferson’s death, I wonder where love was when she was shot? Where patience and kindness were as she just sought to protect her nephew? Where justice is in the wake of her death?
We live in a country where we have the freedom to worship together, where we have ample opportunity to live like Christ in front of people who don’t look or talk like us. And yet we still stand separated. We still worship within our own territory. We still have an instinct to see each other as criminals, threats, and deserving of fear.
I didn’t know Atatiana Jefferson from Adam, but my Father did; my Father does. He crafted her with as much attention and intention as anyone else. Each of our lives was designed with a purpose and planned with intent. We’ve got to start seeing each other that way, beyond any taught prejudice, or stereotype. We’ve got to do better.
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