A Bold Prayer: 'Black Men"

You've read a previous article here by Shena Sandle, one of our first year MFT students here at ACU. With her permission, here is a moving piece of prose, turned to poetry, ending with a prayer:

"There is probably nothing as beautiful as a black man. So much strength, power, and beauty in one creature. There is not a shortage of black men, at least not in my neighborhood. I pass them everyday and marvel at how God created them. So much purpose in one body, in one soul. He has the power to change so much, to ravage the social structures. To call things as they were, as they are. To make the seasons change.

But with the awe comes a sadness. He does not know it. He does not know his power, his strength. He's been crushed from the day he was born. I looked in his eyes and saw promise and I destined him to despair. I felt saddened that I, his biggest fan, his largest supporter, even wobbled on who he would be.

If I could just touch him. If I could just let that black man know that I believed in him. That I don't see a drug dealer or a baby's daddy. That Maury has no influence and nor does the Essence magazine's latest rant on him choosing a white woman. My God, you are perfect. You are beautiful. You are everything.

You excite me, Black man. I pray for you daily. My hope is for you. My love is for you. You will overcome because it is in His plan for you, my love.

I need you. We need you. Your children. Your community. Your self. Come on, Black man. Don't believe the hype. Don't believe what you've been told or sold. You are enough. Put the bag down, listen to me. It takes skill to do what you do, even if it is a felony. If that skill could only be used for who you're supposed to be.

Enough, Black man. I love you, Black man. If only enough of us would tell you we love you, Black man. With my own tears, I cry for you Black man. If only I could touch you… but there's places in you femininity could never reach. If only God had given me one more rib to be more like you.

Your surroundings are not you, Black man. The neighborhood is not you. But please… please don't get up and leave, Black man. We need you here. We need you to learn and grow here.

We need your shade, Jesus. Jesus, plant yourself here so that we can rest under your branches. So that we can eat of your fruit. So that we taste of it and be filled and healed.

My God, my Lord… if only this Black man could see that You and he… that he is You because you are in Him. This is not a fallacy. My God, we need You. We need Him. We need to be we again. Touch my Black man. Love my Black man. Hear his cries. Hear our cries.

We need him."

Shena Sandle
First Year Intern
MFT/ACU