It was Saturday and I wasn’t watching the news. No, not listening to a governor not resign over a blackface photo from 1984. So I didn’t hear him admit he darkened his face “a little bit” for a dance contest that same year, wearing a Michael Jackson costume. “I had the shoes, I had a glove. I used just a little bit of shoe polish on my cheeks, and the reason I used a very little bit is because – I don’t know if anybody’s ever tried that – but you cannot get shoe polish off.”

No. I didn’t listen to that. (Or that he won that dance contest.) Nor did I listen when a CNN newsman said the nickname “Coonman” appeared in a Virginia Military Institute yearbook for this same Virginia leader.

No.

I couldn’t listen because these insults just hurt. Not everyone understands that. This Virginia governor’s wife started to smile, as if it was funny, when he talked about applying blackface to mimic Michael Jackson.

Her look reminds us of the TV news host who declared blackface “OK’ when it’s sported for Halloween.

It’s an ongoing nightmare, however, when in 2019, some of us still find ourselves explaining this problem – yes, still bemoaning all the ways Jim Crow buffoonery has been used to demean the dignity of those whose skin is darker than white.

And yet? While reflecting on the hurt of this practice, and the tragic racial history of our country – and on the debate over the Virginia governor to just resign already – I finally saw what I did need to hear:

This is not our battle.

It’s our God’s.

I surrendered to the fullness of that while stewing, yet again, over this latest insult. Who among us, indeed, can’t recall the long record of hate in our nation — across every spectrum — in movies, songs, frat house parodies, jail cells, courtrooms, work places, school houses and, yes, in Halloween costumes, all ridiculing the dignity of dark skin by making fun of it.

Can we even calculate the harm it has done? Not just in emotional trauma and stolen opportunities — but by splintering our culture, relationships, minds, spirits and hearts.

Today, however, I reflect on hope – sparked, ironically, by a little devotional I wrote recently on keeping our eyes not on our troubles, but on God. Yep, I can write devotional-y stuff like that going and coming.

But I didn’t listen close enough to what I wrote. Don’t look at our troubles. Instead, focus on the One who fights them. A boatload of Bible folks died to teach us that. Thus, we now have a choice:

Keep stewing on these crazy-making incidents. Or focus on God. And His healing power. And our right to step into His mighty deliverance and receive it.

For help, here’s a short Bible story. You may know it well. It’s about King Jehoshaphat – who’s having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Enemies are amassing like flies. Moabites, Ammonites, “and some of the Meunites” have come to wage war on this overwhelmed king (2 Chronicles 20: 1-25).

Looking at their force, Jehoshaphat’s spirit sinks. He’s flat-out terrified. Begging God for help, Jehoshaphat orders everyone in Judah to begin fasting. Then Jehoshaphat prays. “O LORD!” (vv. 6-12).

And you know that kind of praying. God, help me. This blackface mess and this Jim Crow trauma and this systemic injustice and…

It’s long, these prayers of ours. So was Jehoshaphat’s desperate prayer. But God hears. Indeed, Heaven opens. Then look: the Spirit of the Lord arrives. Yes, our help.

Indeed, He’s here now. And He understands. And He knows. Moreover, He sees. Indeed, He speaks through a man, Jahaziel – whose name means “God sees.” Or, actually, “He Will Be Seen of God.”

“This is what the Lord says,” this Jahaziel declares. “Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s” (vs. 15 nlt).

In fact, says Jahaziel: Stand still and “watch the Lord’s victory” (vs. 17).

Believing that, Jehohshaphat called singers to sing praises before the battle – a fight which fizzled because the enemies turned on each other. (Yes, it’s a great story.)

And blackface? And leaders “blacking up” and thinking it funny? And Jim Crow trauma? And systemic injustice? And governors who don’t understand?

God’s got this.

Sounds cliche? Perhaps. Or we can surrender the fight by singing our Lord’s praises – following Him to victory. And then? We eternally win.

Patricia Raybon is an award-winning author of books and essays on faith, race and grace.

To travel along on Patricia’s Faith Journey, please click here.

Any Scriptures quoted, unless noted otherwise, are the New Living Translation of the Holy Bible.

Photo Credits: Miguel Bruna @ unsplash; Parker Michels-Boyce for The New York Times