In 1892 the bold and ballsy Homer Plessy filed a law suit against the honorable Judge John H. Ferguson, of the Louisiana Supreme Court, arguing that the segregation law violated the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Of course this law suit set legalized segregation into play until Brown v. Board of Education of in 1954.
Now, how ironic is it, one hundred and eighteen years later, a small town named Ferguson continues to draw media attention while unrest plagues the small town of Missouri know as Ferguson, following the shooting and sudden death of a teenager of eighteen years of age named Michael Brown.
In 1892 a single judge named Ferguson changed the environment of a people and it’s just amazing the impact, this very same word Ferguson is having today. I believe in divine providence. I believe our Father’s hand to be on and in every detail of everything and I believe this name thing to be of no coincidence.
Note: This post has been edited.
After a good night of rest, I must admit I wonder if we as people are no longer interested in our history. I wonder if we are so enslaved to the little devices we hold so dearly in our most able hands that we fail on every other regard.
When I learned of the staggering statistics of this little town of Ferguson I wondered to my husband WHY would any black people live there. Now, I wonder even more WHY on earth would any people of color live and love in a town named Ferguson. WHY would any black people continue to live and love in an environment with so much strife. WHY would any black people continue to live and love in an environment with so much strife. WHY would any people live or continue to live and love there when there is so much more to America.
Might I suggest to you today that maybe, just maybe, there are many people of Ferguson who have no idea they are FREE. They have not a notion of what it means to be FREE in Christ Jesus. Like the children of Israel they have been in captivity for far to long. Like the children of Israel they are nursing this thing like a five-year old baby who longs only to be weened. Like the children of Israel, their Moses is still in Midian. Like the children of Israel, Moses won’t you please come home.
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