A Journey from Prejudice to Love”
The message from Pastor Mike on Sunday out of the Book of Acts, inspired me to be transparent about another moment on this journey, one the Holy Spirit walked me through with grace, conviction, and love. It came from Acts 10:28.
There was a time when I believed I was doing just fine spiritually. I was in the church, faithfully serving, loving God, and trying my best to walk upright. But sometimes, it takes one unexpected moment for the Holy Spirit to reveal what’s still hidden deep in the heart.
That moment came when my eldest son, still a senior in high school at the time, brought home the young lady he was dating. I wasn’t ready. She was white, and my heart instantly recoiled. I masked it with politeness, but inside, I was filled with fear, discomfort, and silent judgment. I didn’t want him dating someone from another race, not because I hated her, but because I feared for him. I feared what her family might think, what society might do, how the world might treat a young Black man in love with someone outside his race.
But I can’t call it anything less than what it was: prejudice. And though I loved God, I wasn’t loving like God. She felt my distance, and I felt the weight of conviction. That encounter unsettled me for days. The Lord began peeling back the layers of my heart and showing me that what I thought was protection was actually a wall I had built, a wall He never asked me to put up.
The Lord was confronting me gently, just as He confronted Peter in Acts 10. Peter, a devout man of God, was still holding onto cultural divisions until God gave him a vision that broke down his pride. When Peter said, “God has shown me that I should not call anyone impure or unclean,” he was admitting that even a godly man can have blind spots. So could I.
A few days later, I agreed to go with my son to dinner at her family’s home. I walked in, guarded, still unsure of what to expect. But what I experienced brought tears to my soul. Her parents welcomed me, not with shallow tolerance but with genuine kindness. They loved my son, truly loved him, and I saw it in their eyes and actions. It stunned me. And it humbled me.
In that moment, I realized they had shown more love and acceptance toward my son than I had shown their daughter. The Holy Spirit gripped my heart. That was the turning point. It was the start of God dismantling old fears and outdated beliefs and replacing them with His divine perspective.
I want to pause here and say this from my heart: I grew up in a traditional Black church surrounded by devoted pastors, powerful worship, and rich teaching that grounded me in the Word of God. That environment shaped me, trained me, and helped develop the foundation I stand on today. I carry deep respect for the people and the place that first taught me to love Jesus. So when the Lord later planted me in a multicultural church, it wasn’t because something was wrong with where I had been, it was because He was expanding my heart and my reach. He wasn’t erasing my roots; He was building on them.
Later, as I worshiped among believers from different backgrounds, I saw the body of Christ the way it was meant to be, diverse, unified, worshiping in one Spirit. And my heart began to heal. Not just from prejudice, but from fear. From pride. From the lie that God’s love is bound by human preference.
Pastor Mike reminded us that we are called to long for Jesus more than we long for comfort. That’s what it took for me to grow. It took humility. The kind that admits, “I was wrong.” The kind that says, “Lord, search me and know me,” even when it hurts. The kind that breaks barriers and builds bridges.
When I look at Acts 2 and see believers from every nation gathered, I realize how intentional God is. He speaks every language. He sees every heart. He knows how to reach each one of us, right where we are, because His love doesn’t have a color, just a name: Jesus.
The church in Acts wasn’t built in a bubble. It was forged in the fire of persecution and spread across cultures through people who were willing to grow. That’s how the church in Antioch was born, a church so united that people couldn’t label it by race or class. They just called them “Christians.”
And isn’t that what we want to be known as?
Heaven is going to sound like a choir, every tribe, every tongue, every people and nation. And if we’re going to live in that harmony for eternity, we need to start practicing it now.
God is still breaking down walls. Not just in systems and institutions, but in hearts. He broke one in mine. And because of that, I can say today: I’m free to love. I’m free to embrace. I’m free to be a reflection of the Kingdom.
Prayer:
Father, thank You for loving me even when I couldn’t see clearly. Thank You for showing me that Your heart beats for all people, not just the ones I’m comfortable with. Forgive me for the times I let fear speak louder than love. I don’t want to live with hidden walls in my spirit. Teach me humility. Show me how to listen, how to grow, and how to walk in the unity You died to give us. Let my life reflect Your heavenly choir, right here on earth. In Jesus’ name, Amen.