I tried to hide from the brokeness

Y'all. I am so tired. You know that feeling, where you look back at your day and see very little fruit but yet feel like you have gone non stop. That feeling, well, I am over it.

The other day I had the rare moment where the house was empty. My husband and brother-in-law were at work. My mom took the boys for and adventure. Alone. I honestly don't know the last time I have been truly alone. I had big plans to read (you are jealous of this life, I know).

But I couldn't focus on the pages of my book.

I wept. Just cried. I didn't even try to journal or anything. I texted a couple of friends asking for prayer (thank you). But I was just E.M.P.T.Y

Here's the deal - I don't feel like I have a voice.
Or the voice I have, isn't being heard.
Jealous of those who say the same thing, but have a name that travels.
A voice that isn't heard thanks to Facebook algorithms manipulating my voice to be apart of some formula for their own pleasure.
My voice, being muffled by squeaker wheels.

But who's listening? Does it matter?

I am motivated by truth and knowledge.
     Loyalty and love (favoring the underdog).
If you wish to push my buttons,
      simply land on hypocrisy and injustice.

Injustice, racism, cults, porn, sex-trafficking,
     all our words spoken this week.
Words from stories from my family, friends,
     and former students.

George Floyd
Ward Family
"R" - baby girl
Gideon

The names of those hurting.
     Broken by society, curiosity, and the world
Families that are grieving, weeping
     and asking to be heard.

I am asking for you all to listen
     to each other. Talk less.
I am asking we open homes, hearts, and minds
     sharing stories and listen.

People want to be heard.
     Wait. 

They will speak. Or listen differently to hear.
      I'm okay even though I am broken.