A child of activists, I am learning to embrace the spirit of protest pumping through my veins. I am no Malcolm, neither am I Martin. I am not Fannie Lou, nor am I Diane Nash. I read and write, but I am more than a scholar. I preach and teach, but that’s only part of it all. I am finding my voice as a frustrated mystic. Unsettled by the pain of the world, yet unable to remove myself from it. Humbled, I internalize and process the toxins of others as a daily prayer. In grace, I am cleansed. In the silence of the mind, I am discovering peace and protest. In the solitude of the heart, I find rest and revolution. In the frenzy of life and in the shadow of death, I sought the still moment. In it I found that God desires MORE.

I am MORE.
You are MORE.
We are MORE.
deficit thinking yields deficient results.
So, be more.
MORE to come.

I offer this reflection and poem as a call to activist-minded folk who are seeking to find their voice and discover a MORE thoughtful way of being in the world.  I stress being more and not doing more for a reason.  If you are, it will guide what you do.  But what you do, does not predetermine who you are.