Unpackyourdreams

Today, I’m remembering what Memorial Day truly asks of us.

Before it became a federal holiday, before it became cookouts and long weekends, Memorial Day began with remembrance.

And one of the first Memorial Day observances happened on May 1, 1865, in Charleston, South Carolina, led by newly freed Black men, women, and children.

A former race course had been turned into a Confederate prison camp, where Union soldiers died and were buried in a mass grave. After emancipation, Black Charlestonians gave those soldiers a proper burial. They decorated their graves with flowers, sang, marched, prayed, and honored them as “Martyrs of the Race Course.”

That history touches me deeply. My family roots are in South Carolina, where this story began. And here in Harlem, Melba’s sits on Frederick Douglass Boulevard, named for a man who never let America forget the truth of what the Civil War was about.

As Douglass said, “We must never forget that victory to the rebellion meant death to the republic.”

So today, yes, we gather. Yes, we cook. Yes, we love on our families.

But we also remember.

Memorial Day is rooted in sacrifice, freedom, and the fight to make this country live up to its promise. And we honor that truth with clear eyes, full hearts, and deep gratitude.

Must Jesus bear the cross alone… and you walk free?

No.

There’s a cross with your name on it.
Not to break you… but to build you.
Not to shame you… but to shape you.

You’ve been asking for purpose—
but purpose comes with weight.
You’ve been praying for elevation—
but elevation requires endurance.

That pressure you feel?
That responsibility you carry?
That silent battle nobody sees?

That’s your cross.

And here’s the truth—
you don’t carry it empty.
You carry it with promise.

Because on the other side of every cross…
there’s a crown.

Not given to the ones who quit.
Not handed to the ones who fold.
But earned by the ones who say:
“I’ll carry what’s mine… all the way through.”

So stand up.
Pick it up.
And walk like you were chosen to carry it.

Because you were.

FaithWalk