Unresolved Queries of Rage

There is this silent killer in me ready to tear through my flesh –rage.  This rage that suffocates racism and establishes places of sacred honor within myself. My rage, my anger posits itself in a fountain of unresolved queries, constantly leaving me wrestling with who is this man called Jesus.

Can this Jesus that I was taught about in Sunday school afford to care about my marginalized black life, while simultaneously uplifting white life?   

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