On the day before yesterday, after my friend Carrie hopped into my car at the airport, our conversation immediately turned to the presidential election. On the one hand, we couldn’t wait for it to be over; on the other, we dreaded the outcome and the ensuing chaos. For the weekend, we resolved to help each other relax from election anxiety.
Thus our sleepy heads slowly woke to Sunday’s clouds and chills. After coffee at our cozy Parisian-style hotel, Spirit moved between us and within minutes, we were transported to the Martin Luther King National Historic Park. A lecture at the Ebenezer Baptist Church, Dr. King’s principles of nonviolence, his life and activism—what a soul-stirring, much-needed uplifting experience. My friend was so moved tears formed soft streams down her cheeks. A visit to this holy site often elicits deep emotions from the pilgrims.
It must sound cliched to say that Dr. King has had profound influence on me. Yet, it is a cliche that holds true even to this day. Often, I reminisce the times when I would listen to Dr. King’s sermons while jogging along the Stanford Dish trail. Those were precious moments of clarity intellectual and spiritual. The cadence of his voice, the poetry of his words, the prophetic power of his truth, captivated me like ritual incantations of an ancient seer. At the National Park, I was reminded yet again that to live is an act of courage, and to have courage is an act of faith.
Not only Dr. King but Mrs. King’s words convey enormous power in equal measure: “Women, if the soul of the nation is to be saved, I believe that you must become its soul.” What we experience as a nation today is a collective sickness of a spiritual kind. The struggle for women’s rights remains as relevant as it was 50 years ago.
The historic site was pregnant with prophetic murmurs of human strength and hope. The misty air heightened its sacredness. Yesterday, Sweet Auburn smelled of sweet autumn rose.
This Beautiful Moment 