My Husband IS White

My husband is white, I am black.  Under Christ we are no different.  Unfortunately, in the US we are very different.  On a road trip from Maryland to New York to visit my family, I actually said to my husband “we probably won’t get pulled over because your white.  We’re safe.”.  Pat immediately said, “you should blog about this”.  My statement brought a real emotion of sadness in that truth.

I began to think about my brothers that are black, how are they dealing with being judged because of their skin color?  I remember on my prom night, my cousin getting arrested for not having his seatbelt on.  My cousin had dreads, and was driving a nice car, it was prom night but they didn’t care and he was taken to jail! Instead of having a great night, I had to see my cousin get handcuffed and sent to jail.  By the grace of God my cousin was not hurt in any way, but what I can’t say is that he wasn’t hurt emotionally.

I love my husband, and I don’t see skin color.  He cares deeply for anybody who is treated unfairly, so he is very passionate about racial discrimination.  He writes most of the blogs about racism, and I admire that he wasn’t keeping quiet about racial discrimination when he felt like everyone else was.  His most popular post is called “My Wife IS Black” which got about a thousand views, where he talked about being married to a black woman (me), and how that affects his life, and one day even his kids.  He doesn’t turn a blind eye to this, and I love him for that.

So, how will I be affected by being married to a white man? I wonder what you think I am going to say about this?  Well, I am not affected at all.  If anything in this day and age, it is a benefit.  I can’t say that the other way around my husband could say this about me.  He may have to suffer more for me being black, than I would have to suffer for him being white! In the car on the way to NY, I felt safe, I felt like if we saw a cop and got pulled over, we would have been good.  We would probably get a ticket and be on our way.  Now if it was my cousin, well, I couldn’t say the same. Not to mention I was wearing a Dashiki, if you don’t know what that is, it’s a tunic originating from West Africa. God forbid I looked too black!

The fact that I have to wrestle with these thoughts, and with my experiences shows me how broken this world really is.  The title of this blog being, no place to lay rings so true in this.  There is no place to lay here, but there is a place where there will be no racial divides. I am grateful to confidently say that when I die my place will be in heaven.  So, I am hopeful.  Philippians 3:20 says, But our citizenship is in heaven, and we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ!

Where is your hope?

-La Micia

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