Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Dear Franklin Graham,
Around the world, atrocities are occurring daily.
Children are starving.
Sex trafficking is happening right under our noses.
There are kids being molested... kids being bullied... kids being neglected...
Marriages are crumbling due to everything from pride to pornography.
Wars are being fought.
I could go on. This list could be so long no one would ever finish reading it.
So much horror. So much sadness. So much hopelessness.
So, no, Mr. Graham, I will not get my panties in a wad over gender labels at Target.
You are welcome to your opinion. I am welcome to mine.
Mine is that there are bigger fish to fry.
I stood on a mountain top in Honduras this summer, a hammer hanging from my belt loop and a baby on my hip. I watched hope being built by the hands of people who love Jesus. And I simply cannot bring myself to care about toy aisles.
You, Mr. Graham, have the luxury of outrage. It is your privilege to take the time to care about stuff like gender labels in a department store, because you don't HAVE to worry about feeding yourself and your family. You have choices about where to shop and no worries about a roof over your head in a rainstorm.
I'm in your boat too, actually. I have the luxury of writing this blog post, of taking the time to give a flip what the American Church is in a tizzy over. When I was in Honduras, I didn't care what everyone here in the States was pitching a fit about.
It didn't matter.
It still doesn't.
Someone who believes Jesus wouldn't have wasted His time blasting Target when religious organizations are still so full of Pharisees.