Page 84 of 107 Days

When I woke up in Detroit that Sunday morning, I joined the worship at Greater Emmanuel Institutional Church of God in Christ, a congregation with a century-long history of social justice advocacy.

This Motown church has an extraordinary choir. My sister Maya and I used to sing in the children’s choir at Twenty-Third Avenue Church of God in Oakland, but we never sounded like this. Except, maybe, in our own minds.

I talked about the message of God to the prophet Jeremiah: “I know the plans I have for you… not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

I urged the church to consider God’s plans for healing and bringing us together as a nation, and to make them real in our works.

“In these next two days, we will be tested. These days will demand everything we’ve got…

In times of uncertainty, we are reminded, ‘weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.’?”

It is a beautiful Scripture. I believe in the truth of it, though anyone who has endured deep grief understands that it is a metaphor, that the night can be very long.

That Sunday, I still believed our campaign of joy would triumph in two days.