About KB

40+ years of an average life has led KB to search for the absurdity in everyday encounters with those around her. Born blocks from the beaches of Southern California but raised in a rural farm community north of Seattle, Kate appreciates the humor of simple moments and ordinary people. The granddaughter of a world renowned author of biological nonfiction, a lifetime love of reading and writing guided Kate into being an English major at the University of Washington. After nearly twenty years of raising her four children and supporting her husband’s career, KB decided it was time to share her writing with others. On her 41st birthday she started her own blog, KBJackson.com. Now a published author of three series, KB is represented by Dawn Dowdle of Blue Ridge Literary Agency. Her middle grade Sasquatch Hunters series is published by Reycraft Books, her Chattertowne mystery series is published by Level Best Books, and her Cruising Sisters series is published by Tule.

FEBRUARY NEWSLETTER


The past several weeks since the official release of “The Sasquatch of Hawthorne Elementary” have been nothing short of amazing. I’ve had the opportunity to speak to hundreds of middle grade readers at various local schools, celebrated a successful launch event with author J. Anderson Coats at Brick & Mortar Books in Redmond, and even got to meet with aspiring authors at a local middle school. A couple weeks ago I had a mom come up to me to let me know her 3rd grader had previously only been reading graphic novels, but my book has helped her make the leap to chapter books. The response I’ve gotten from the kids and their parents and teachers has been so wonderful, beyond my wildest dreams.

Teachers or librarians looking to have me do a school visit, email me HERE

For kids with questions about Bigfoot or other cryptids (or even questions about writing) they are welcome to email Jake and the rest of the Sasquatch Hunters crew at SasquatchHuntersofWA@gmail.com

Other happenings…In March I’ll be attending Left Coast Crime Conference in Tucson, Arizona where I’ll be both a panelist on the topic of plotting and character development as well as panel moderator discussing preferred methods of murder with other crime writers in “How We Kill.”
I’m also thrilled to be involved with helping make Left Coast Crime 2024 in Bellevue, Washington the best one yet!

UPCOMING:
Join me Saturday March 25, 2023 at 12pm for a signing at the Alderwood Barnes and Noble in Lynnwood, Washington. I’ll have prize drawings and giveaways for those who attend.


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Scenes from recent events:

The Students of Ms. Van Horne’s class today asked me to include the recipe for Dutch Babies as mentioned in “The Sasquatch of Hawthorne Elementary.” I’m sure there’s a more official version, but here’s what we do in our home:

DUTCH BABIES

Ingredients:

1 cup milk

1 cup flour

4 eggs

I tsp vanilla

1/2 stick butter

Syrup and powdered sugar

Directions:

In a baking dish (I typically use 9×13) place 1/2 stick of butter. Turn oven to 400 degrees and place baking dish into the cold oven. The butter will melt as the pan heats. Meanwhile, in a blender, combine milk, flour, vanilla, and eggs. Blend until all ingredients are incorporated, and then let it run for another two minutes to get the batter frothy. This is what makes the Dutch babies rise. Once the oven is preheated and the butter is melted, pour batter into the hot dish. Be careful! Like I said, it’s hot. Allow this to bake for 25-35 minutes. It should puff and brown but not burn. Serve with powdered sugar and syrup, or if you want to get fancy, add fruit.

Welcome to my first Newsletter!

January
2023 Welcome! Whether you’re a kid looking to explore the woods for an elusive creature known as Bigfoot with Jake and the Sasquatch Hunters of Washington crew or an adult seeking to solve mysteries in the riverfront community of Chattertowne, this is the place to be for Pacific Northwest adventures. I’m your guide Kate B. Jackson, and I can’t wait to share with you the stories inspired by the beauty and intrigue of this place I call home.
You can sign up for my newsletter on my homepage.
Book Release January 18th, 202​3
A huge, mysterious creature is hiding out in the woods near Jake Nelson’s new home—he’s sure of it. He and his mom recently moved from Florida to live with his grandfather in Washington State, dashing any hopes he had of ever meeting his equally-mysterious father. Starting sixth grade at his new school hasn’t been easy, either. When word gets out that Jake is a Sasquatch hunter, will he be mercilessly teased like he was at his old school? Or will his new friends Jasmine and Lanny help him track down an elusive Bigfoot that might be living in the local park?Upcoming EventsBrick & Mortar BooksSaturdayJanuary 21st 2:00 PM – 3:00 PMRedmond, WA More Info
So You Wanna Lo​ok For Sasquatch
New Blog Post up now Click Here​ 
Before we head out, be sure to warm up with a bowl of Cabbage Patch Soup, photos and recipe courtesy the Cabbage Patch Restaurant in Snohomish, WA; est. 1975.Cabbage Patch Soup Recipe Recipe:
1 1/2 lbs ground beef
4-5 stalks diced celery 
1/2 med diced onion
1/4 tsp chili powder (to taste – I always add way more)
1 28 oz can tomatoes 
1 10 oz can beef broth
1 15 oz can kidney beans
1 15 oz can tomato sauce 
1/2 medium head cabbage, cut into bite-sized pieces
Salt and pepper to taste

Directions:
In large pot, brown meat and drain
Add celery and onion
Sauté until softened
Add all other ingredients 
Boil 20 minutes 
Simmer until ready to serve

         © 2023 All Rights Reserved 

So You Wanna Look For Sasquatch

What better place to search for Sasquatch than the annual Sasquatch Days festival?

In June 2014 I took my youngest two kids across the border into Canada for Sasquatch Days at Harrison Hot Springs, British Columbia, a beautiful town on the banks of Harrison Lake.

Everywhere we looked, there were signs of Sasquatch.

It makes sense since the term Sasquatch comes from this very place and they have celebrated Sasquatch Days for nearly a century.

Early in the morning, after the Sasquatch procession and opening ceremony, members of the Sts’ailes Nation line up their canoes on the shoreline and the races begin.

There is a street fair where you can purchase merchandise from artisans and vendors and then feast on salmon bbq for lunch.

The next day we signed up for an ATV tour with a local guide at – where else – Sasquatch Provincial Park.

I don’t recall his name but he told us that he’d been interviewed by the “Finding Bigfoot” show when they were in the area filming. Unfortunately his segment never made it into the episode. He took us deep into the trails that ran along the ridge overlooking the lake.

He paused at the scenic lookout to show us the casts of footprints he’d made over the years.

We didn’t spot a Sasquatch on that trip, but I’ll be headed back for Sasquatch Days this summer. Hope to see you there!

Happy Squatching!

Upcoming Events and a thank you!

Book Launch Event:
January 21, 2023 2 pm

Join J.Anderson Coats and me at Brick & Mortar Books in the Redmond Town Center as we celebrate the release of our middle grade adventure novels!

https://www.brickandmortarbooks.com/events/2023/1/21/jackson-coats

As we wind down 2022 I find myself in a deep state of gratitude for everyone who has supported the release of “The Sasquatch of Hawthorne Elementary.” Thank you to everyone who preordered and I’ve loved getting all the pics and videos.




It’s a Big Day Around Here!

Nine years ago today I posted on this website for the very first time. Reading that blog is kind of like seeing old Facebook posts come up in my memories, both nostalgic and embarrassing. I’ve learned a lot since then, so I try to be kind to myself when I read my old stuff like the thousand words I devoted to rotting bananas and such.

Did I mention it’s my birthday today? I suppose it’s a bit narcissistic to leverage my birthday for promotion of my writing, but I’m fifty now and I’ve heard that means I must be unapologetically myself.

For those who haven’t been paying attention, I wrote some books. I acquired a phenomenal agent in Dawn Dowdle of Blue Ridge Literary Agency in August 2020. I got two contracts: A three book deal with Reycraft Books for my Middle Grade adventure series in 2021 and another three-book deal with Level Best Books this year for my adult cozy mystery series. It’s been a dream come true.

(Cue trumpet fanfare)

Today, the first book of the Sasquatch Hunters of Washington series, The Sasquatch of Hawthorne Elementary, is live for preorder on both Barnes and Noble and Amazon, due for release November 15, 2022.

Twelve-year-old JAKE NELSON and his mom, a former Disney Princess, have recently moved from Orlando, Florida, to his grandfather’s home in Washington State. Shorter than the average sixth grader, Jake finds it difficult to fit in at his new school, Hawthorne Elementary, especially after making an enemy of one of the most popular boys on the very first day. Not to mention, Jake’s hobby is a little unusual: He’s a Sasquatch hunter.

Barnes and Noble

Amazon

I’m pretty excited about it. I’ve put a lot of myself into the creation of these books. I’ve put myself out there and taken more risks than ever before…and that was just to get started. Now comes the daunting privilege of sharing my babies with the world.

I’ve had so much support over the past several years I can’t even comprehend it. I’ve spent a lot of time anticipating the opportunity to thank everyone who has helped, encouraged, taught, challenged, listened, endured, and been invested in me. It always brings me to tears I feel so grateful. I absolutely consider the success of these projects to be a group effort. I have a feeling my acknowledgements section will be the length of a whole chapter.

If you’re so inclined and want to help celebrate my birthday by clinking one of those links above, I’d really appreciate it.

There’s a lot more info to come, including the cover reveal, launch party, and other fun events. Follow my social media accounts for all the updates. Instagram Facebook even TikTok

Thank you for your continued support!

Yes, i know i got the title of my own book wrong 🤦🏻‍♀️

Dominoes of Inspiration

The other day I had an opportunity to give a little something back to someone who had no idea of the impact she’d had on my life. I told her sometime I’d tell her the story and she said she’d love to hear it.

Last night as I was explaining the chain of events to my friend, and how this person is going through a tough and discouraging time, she asked me what I was waiting for. She said, “It sounds like what you have to tell her may be exactly what she needs right now.”

She was right.

A few years ago I waded into “Writer” Twitter. I was still getting my sea legs, had yet to complete my manuscript, and had only begun to scratch the surface of discovering all that I had to learn about writing and publishing a book.

When I finally completed my behemoth of a manuscript, it was bloated and had a major genre identity crisis. I was still learning about the querying process and stumbled into an online pitch contest that resulted in both my first “maybe” and my first rejection (In record time, I might add, but since then that guy’s been cancelled for being a creep so it doesn’t feel quite so bad anymore).

When the next pitch contest was coming up, I reached out for help in crafting my pitch from an anon account called “Tory Hunter,” as in story hunter. Tory provides great editing services that run the gamut. ( http://Toryhunterbooks.com ) A couple times I poked around to see if I could discover Tory’s identity, but, honestly, I kind of enjoy keeping the mystery a mystery.

As a result of connecting with Tory, I began to follow the account of a writer named WB Welch who brought a lot of fun and enthusiasm to Writer Twitter. Soon after, they published a zombie novella together. I admired WB’s writing and her boldness. She was doing stuff, making things happen. I barely had the guts to dip my toe in the water.

In the summer of 2019, WB posted that she’d applied to the New York Pitch conference and had been accepted. I’d never heard of the conference. She said she’d decided she was going to attend, even though it was a little scary going alone. She was going to fly by herself halfway across the country to put her writing in front of agents and editors.

I remember reading those posts and thinking, “That’s really brave.” I felt a slight thrill at the thought of it. Could I do that, too? I didn’t think so.

I decided to submit a chapter just to see if I’d get accepted. After all, there wasn’t any way I was going to fly to New York, I just wanted to know if my stuff was good enough to have the opportunity. I didn’t even tell my husband I was submitting.

When I got the acceptance, fear shot through me. What had been a daydream “I just wanna know” suddenly had become reality. I felt nervous to tell my husband what I’d done. I prefaced it with, “Of course, I’m not really going to do this. It’s just nice to know I could.”

But the longer I sat with it, the more I wanted to go. I wanted to know what I was capable of. I wanted to be brave like WB and fly across the country and see if my stuff is good enough. He had concerns about me traveling alone, but I told him I already knew someone who was going. Also, my sister lived in Brooklyn at the time.

I reached out to WB to let her know I was going too! We talked about the adventure we were about to take, and I was excited to finally meet in person. Then, shortly before we were supposed to go, she had to change her plans. Some things had come up and she had to defer her registration a year to the 2020 conference. I was bummed and a little more nervous, because that meant I’d know absolutely no one when I go there. However, she’d planned to go alone before I signed on, and if she could do it, so could I.

One of the assignments given prior to the conference was subscribing to Publisher’s Marketplace, an online newsletter for announcements in the publishing industry. They said it would be useful for completing another of the assignments, researching comps for our books.

The night before the conference started, I scanned PM for information on book deals and came across one for a mystery author whose series sounded like something I’d want to read. I took a screenshot of it and told myself when I got home I should submit to the agent responsible for the two-book deal.

I won’t bore you with the details, but the conference was great and most of all, I connected with a group of phenomenal women writers. It’s been more than a year and a half and we’re still navigating the ups and downs of life and writing together. In fact, we’re having a catch-up Zoom next week. Their support has been invaluable to me and I never would have met them if it weren’t for WB.

I also wouldn’t have spent several days of that trip reconnecting and bonding with my sister. I wouldn’t have learned to take the subway. I wouldn’t have gained the courage that only comes from taking risks and putting yourself out there to be critiqued. I wouldn’t have learned how to pitch face-to-face. I got my first opportunity to sit in front of an editor from a major NY publisher and have them tell me they want to hear more from me. I was challenged and inspired and encouraged.

After I got home from the conference, I worked on my book and researched agents I felt would be a good fit. I submitted to some of them, but to no avail. I then set my mystery novel aside and began focusing on completing the middle grade adventure book I’d started several years ago.

But then, in the summer of 2020, I decided I’d make one last attempt to get an agent for my adult mystery book before moving on to something else. I’d taken a couple screenwriting seminars and had begun writing a script for the first time.

I looked through all my notes and found the agents I wanted to submit to. Then I remembered I’d screenshot the book deal in NY and hunted down the photo. I located the agent’s info and looked her up. (I’ve been in heavy editing mode for months so all these dangling prepositions are killing me, but I’m leaving ’em.) What I found was a more comprehensive submission process than any other. I was so intimidated I almost didn’t complete it. But I did.

A few weeks later the agent sent a revise and resubmit request. That’s a big deal for those of you unfamiliar with querying. It means they like your writing but something needs to be fixed in your manuscript and they want to see if you’re capable of or willing to make the adjustments. I reached out to Tory and she walked through the changes with me, leading to an offer from the agent. Soon after that, I signed a contract of representation with Dawn Dowdle, who is exactly the right agent for me. I’m so grateful that everything aligned so that I can be under her umbrella and guidance.

Obviously, Covid interfered with WB being able to go to the NY Pitch conference last year and this year she’s been battling chronic health issues. (If you’d like to give her a boost: buymeacoffee.com/wbwelch ) She’s a great writer and a beautiful human.

I just want her to know how her bravery has been so inspirational to me and set things into motion in my life which have enabled me to reach for my dreams. Achieving them is so close I can practically taste it. Also, because of her forging the path, I met my support group who’ve encouraged me every step of the way.

Sometimes we don’t realize how our acts of courage and bravery spill onto those around us. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to let her (and Tory, whoever you are) know how much they’ve inspired me.

WB, you’ve changed my life for the better just by being your brave self. On the days when life feels like it’s kicking your ass, I hope this reminder of who you are and what you’re capable of helps.

The Fairytale of American Patriotism

Once upon a time…

It’s how every fairy tale begins. Once upon a time there was a fair maiden who was nothing until a rich handsome prince showed up, told her she was pretty, and they lived happily ever after. Once upon a time there were unknown lands until one brave man discovered them. Once upon a time people risked their lives to create a utopia of freedom. Once upon a time a boy who could not tell a lie became our first and greatest leader.

We love these stories. We revere these stories and the men they idolize. We make couplets and poems to celebrate them. We pass down idioms and proverbs about them. We build monuments to them and name streets, towns, states after their heroes. Deep down we know the real story looks nothing like the legendary version, but we prefer to view them through a rosy lens, package it in red, white, and blue, and call it patriotism.

Any challenge to this narrative is considered an attack. Any reframing of history is unpatriotic. We make excuses for evil and call it a by-product of the era. When voices speak out against this practice, we say, “You must not love this country. You’re not happy with the way things are? Maybe you should leave.”

As I’ve observed events and the resulting conversations over the past few weeks of upheaval, a story picture has formed in my mind. My close friend had recently quoted Mark 3:25 on one of our walks, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” (Everybody likes to attribute that to Lincoln, but it was Jesus.) The metaphor of this nation being a house is a powerful one, and as I ruminated on it some truths have been revealing themselves in my heart.

Instead of a fairytale, which often bears little resemblance to reality, I’d like to tell an allegory about patriotism. It goes like this:

You’re a judge and a woman comes to you about the man she lives with.

She tells you the relationship began when he kidnapped her from her home as a child. He gave her a new name, forbade her from using her old name or practicing any of her family traditions, and told her she could no longer speak of the place or people from which she’d originated. He controlled her comings and goings, forcing her to work hard labor all day. He’d laid the foundation of his house but coerced her to build the mansion it sat upon. He took her body without consent whenever he chose, denied responsibility for the children she bore him, and treated them with contempt and derision. He gained tremendous wealth because of her, and gave her not a penny. On his best days, he didn’t beat or rape her, but those days weren’t the norm.

Then one day the police showed up and said yeah, you can’t do that anymore so he reluctantly said she was free…only she had no money and no place to go. In fact, he was supposed to give her land to build her own home and he promised he would, but never followed through. She couldn’t go back to the home from which she’d been stolen, even if she wanted to do so. He’d purposely erased all memory of that place because if she knew of the greatness of her People and the things they’d achieved, she would be a threat to him and all he’d come to possess through her work and from robbery of the original residents of the land.

Against all odds and efforts, she constructed a beautiful addition onto the house and opened a thriving business.

Bitterness and anger seethed in him. How dare she, he thought. So, he burned her new space to the ground. He did it brazenly and without fear of repercussion. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen. With each step forward he met her progress with resistance. He watched her every move in hopes she would make a misstep so he could put her in bondage again.

However, he continuously underestimated her tenacity, and time and again she rebuilt.

See, the thing is, he wanted to control her because he saw how beautiful and strong she was. He was obsessed with her and yet hated her for his own obsession. He loved the sound of her voice, and her humor gave him joy. He admired her innovation, creativity, and intelligence but was insanely jealous and terrified of losing the upper hand in the relationship. He feared the day she’d recognize the full extent of her potential, her power, and the true legacy from which she’d come. His only hope was trying to convince her she wasn’t capable of living without him when in reality he wouldn’t be what he was without her. After all, she was responsible for his fortune.

As time went on, he decided to take a different approach. He wouldn’t be outwardly abusive to her, instead he’d joke about her with his buddies behind closed doors. He’d no longer let people see him undermining her success. He knew he’d have to get more crafty and surreptitious in his endeavors. He learned to reframe the conversation so that whenever she objected to his treatment of her or complained about the deterioration of the house, he’d bring up all the things he’d provided her, the ways he’d attempted to improve his treatment of her, and any mistakes she might have made along the way. He twisted the story until even he no longer knew truth from fiction. To his friends he tried to make her look ungrateful, lazy, stupid, dangerous, or unfaithful. He claimed she was the abusive one whenever she fought back or retaliated against his cruelty. He pointed to the hole she’d punched in the wall during a moment of frustration and blamed her for the home’s state of disrepair.

Over the years, he became more and more oblivious to the condition of the house. It was dilapidated. No longer the most beautiful house on the block, it had become an eyesore, and an embarrassment. Shingles were falling off and rats had infested the attic. The foundation began to crumble because the materials and technique he’d used had appeared to be good on the façade but were actually deeply flawed and weak.

Despite this, the woman still believed the situation could be remedied. She believed they could live in peace together in the home. She believed if they shored up the cracks in the foundation it might continue to stand but drastic changes to its structure were required.

So, she presented him with a list of items needing to be addressed. He ignored them. The electrical system shorted out but only in her part of the house. Once again she presented her list. He disregarded it and told her to light a candle. The water heater went out in the middle of her shower. He told her to stop yelling at him about the things wrong with the house and be grateful because cold water was better than no water.

She still valued the house. After all, she’d built it with her own blood, sweat, and tears. She visualized its potential, dreamed of what it could be with a solid foundation and repairs to those aspects of it which weren’t functioning properly. Unfortunately, he refused to acknowledge its inadequacies. She couldn’t understand why he hated her so much he’d rather let the place fall completely apart until it was uninhabitable rather than work to make it livable for both of them.

If it were going to be saved, it would need major renovations. The plumbing system? Broken and outdated, only functioning in certain rooms of the house, but not in hers. The sewage line leaked, seeping into the groundwater. The ceilings of her portion of the house were significantly lower than the rest of the home. The original addition she’d built – the one he’d burned down – was lofty, with skylights. When she rebuilt it, he imposed a strict and unreasonable height limit on her roof.

It’s difficult to hold one’s head up if the ceiling is encroaching and preventing you from standing straight.

When she lifted her head and broke through the ceiling, he’d show up promptly to spackle it over. He couldn’t be counted on for any other repairs, but fixing that ceiling was both his priority and his specialty.

The man said, “This house is great. It’s always been great, and I’ve been good to you, mostly. I mean, there was that one time…and that other time…and the time after that…but that was years ago. Okay, months ago. Oh, yeah, weeks ago. It’s been at least 48 hours since I abused, disrespected, and attempted to dehumanize you. Why must you hold a grudge? I put new carpet over the rotting floor and wallpaper over the moldy walls, isn’t that enough? Frankly, I’ve had enough of your complaining. If you don’t like this house, you can leave. I’ve done all I’m willing to do.”

So she comes to you, the judge, and asks a simple question.

Who loves the house more: the one willing to honestly assess its problems and then work to repair them or the one who says “stop trying to change the house, it’s livable enough for me?”

And I ask you…

Who loves this country more: the one who sees that justice is being applied unevenly and advocates for reformation, or the one who turns a blind eye because it doesn’t affect them?

Who loves this country more: the one who sees that it’s failing its citizens and seeks to remedy that, or the one who declares it just fine and if you don’t like it, you can leave?

Who loves this country more: a person who quietly kneels during the anthem in protest asking that all men and women be afforded the right to live unoppressed, or the one who belts out the words “land of the free” while waving an American flag but decries the removal of monuments to slavers, traitors (confederates), and white supremacists?

I’d posit that a man who beats his wife, is unfaithful, inhibits her ability to get a job, doesn’t allow her freedom to move about, refuses couples counseling, and speaks disparagingly about her but prominently wears his wedding ring does not love his wife more than a man who listens, respects, works on conflict, and isn’t complacent about her happiness but chooses not to wear a ring.

Likewise, outward symbols of patriotism are not necessarily a true indication of the commitment a person has to the collective good of a nation. In fact, I’ve observed in some of the most star-spangle-bedazzled people an entrenched resistance to the concept of a collective good. The great irony of the United States of America is our fetishization of individualism while extoling unity. Individualism is social Darwinism. Every man for himself. If we were truly united, we would be unsatisfied with the state of things as long as not everyone enjoys the same level of freedom, opportunity, and safety.

We claim love of country but are cool with twenty million of our citizens living in poverty, many of whom are children. We claim love of country but are only mildly bothered by its injustice and hypocrisy. We despise those who protest the flag but display it in vain.

Our values are freedom* (despite having the highest level of incarceration in the world following a 400+ year history of the enslavement of human beings), democracy* (despite a long-standing effort towards disenfranchisement that is actually getting worse, not better), and the pursuit of happiness. That last one we do pretty well. We especially like to pursue happiness at the expense of others and call it capitalism.

So, who is the real patriot? The one who looks upon the dysfunctional status quo and declares it great as long as it benefits them, or the one who seeks to actually remake this nation into the thing it has always claimed to be but has never really lived up to; a beacon of liberty and justice for all?

Blessed are the Peacemakers

Blessed are the Peacemakers

Just when we thought 2020 had thrown its biggest challenges our way…

Seemingly, with one act of violence, our country has erupted into chaos. For many, this is a disconcerting and confusing time. For some of us this outcry isn’t new, and the repetition has felt like an unending cycle of unheard pain, unrecognized injustice, and an unrepentant nation unwilling to acknowledge and address its original sin.

Christians, this is the time for which we were called. It’s no accident that we live in this country, at this pivotal moment in history. And if we are called, we must know that to which we are called.

I won’t lie to you. Racial reconciliation work and bridge building is not for the faint of heart. Whenever you stand up against injustice and oppression, you will lose friends. You will make people angry. I have some trepidation even writing this today. Resistance to change is inevitable. Just remember that the second greatest commandment after loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength is to love our neighbors as ourselves.

This is what that looks like:

  1. We are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers. As someone very wise once told me (Okay, it was my therapist) being a peacekeeper means avoiding conflict and placating both sides. Being a peacemaker requires entering into conflict, naming the injustice, the evil, the oppression, and feeling it publicly (also allowing others to do so) before it can be moved on.

“If one member suffers, all suffer together.” 1 Corinthians 12:26
“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Galatians 6:2

  1. We are called to be aware.

You’ll notice in my initial statement I said, “seemingly, with one act of violence.” That was purposeful. One act of violence didn’t ignite this flame of protest. Hundreds of years and countless violent acts against Black people have led to this moment. War, lawsuits, civil disobedience, protests, riots, walkouts, boycotts… NONE of these things has brought systemic change. And many if not most white people remain blissfully obtuse to the world that People of color experience on a daily basis. As followers of Jesus Christ it is our moral and evangelical imperative to be aware of the pain and oppression of those in our midst. We do not have the luxury of turning a blind eye to injustice simply because it doesn’t directly affect us.

“And the Lord said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground.” Gen 4:10

  1. Listen.

Our friends and neighbors are hurting. True empathy enters into pain with people, shares their burden, stands in solidarity, and brings hope. We must deal with our innate discomfort with the pain of others so that they feel heard, validated, understood.

“How long, LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you. “Violence!” but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. Therefore, the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.”
Habakkuk 1: 2-4

  1. Educate ourselves and others.

One of the things that I’ve seen from people just waking up to the challenges Black people face in this country is asking “how can I help? What should I do?” There are many resources out there to help answer these questions. Latasha Morrison of Be the Bridge (https://bethebridge.com/) has created a Bible-based racial reconciliation organization with both materials and opportunities to get involved, along with book recommendations.

On social media, there are many leaders who have done great work, both within the framework of the church and outside of it.  We are responsible for educating ourselves and then educating others like us.

  1. Be actively against racism.

This is not a time for passivity. Truthfully, I’ve seen Christ followers bolder in their willingness to preach to atheist strangers than to call out racism amongst their friends and family.

“Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed.” Isaiah 1:17

  1. Pray as much for justice as we pray for peace.

No one likes violence. No one enjoys chaos and the disruption. However, we must be more outraged at the abuse of power, and the inequity of the dispensation of justice and punishment because that is offensive to God and should be offensive to us.

“Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before you.”
Psalm 89:14

  1. Trust that God is in control, that He will use our advocacy and love for our neighbors to usher in justice and peace for HIS glory.

Here is the LORD’s answer to Habakkuk: “Look at the nations and watch- and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.”
“Because of the devastation of the afflicted, because of the groaning of the needy, Now I will arise,”
says the LORD; “I will set him in the safety for which he longs.” Psalm 12:5

God, we pray for the people of this country as we reckon with the sins of our past and present which have brought harm upon our Black brothers and sisters. We ask for forgiveness for our apathy in regard to their oppression and pain. Give us courage to advocate lovingly and boldly on behalf of justice. Heal our land, Lord Jesus. Amen.