I peer out my window,ensconced in this plane climbing over NYC, adopted home of this southern white girl. Leaving that huge city, I read about our first stop and my destination this afternoon, Birmingham, Alabama.
Reading about the Movement in Birmingham from "Weary Feet, Rested Souls", there is much I never heard before about the locations we will visit tomorrow. My heart is already gearing up for church at 16th St Baptist where four little girls lost their lives in that bombing. I think about Martin Luther King's "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" that has called me often to resist the temptation to sell out my conscience, to consider the moment that is before me. I have no idea how this trip will change me but even considering the questions brings tears to my eyes. I am on this journey ; There is only forward into the past.
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