“The world needs more of what’s good and true in us. It needs to be reminded that we’re miracles.”
– Ashlee Eiland
Being kind can sometimes be easy. Other times, it can cost us.
Being kind often means listening with ears wide open.
And when we can’t can be physically present to listen in person, we can listen through written words. Even when it’s uncomfortable.
Ashlee Eiland writes words for us to listen to in her new book, Human(Kind): How Reclaiming Human Worth and Embracing Radical Kindness Will Bring Us Back Together.
Her words aren’t always easy to hear. But they just might be necessary.
Ashlee is a Black woman of faith who grew up in majority-white spaces. If you wonder what that’s like—its comforts and discomforts—you can listen to Ashlee and find out. She shares her stories and lessons she’s learned along the way.
“Being black, no matter what your black looks, sounds, or thinks like, is a full-time job here in America. Trying to stay alive is an exhausting grind, regardless of your job or the car you drive or whether you have a college degree.”
Ashlee also lets us know that kindness is sometimes the hardest thing she’s ever given.
Yet even despite hardships, she’s found that kindness is the best way to show love.
Be kind to others.
And be kind to yourself.
“That truth is this: no matter what destructive and damaging names you’ve been called, they aren’t the ones that matter. The ones that matter are Worthy, Valuable, Chosen, and Beloved. These names remind you that you weren’t, in fact, a mistake but a person who needed to live.”
We can all take a page from Ashlee’s book and learn to live better and love better by choosing kindness.
More Quotes from Human(Kind)
“Seeking to understand someone who’s lived a different story from ours, collecting different beliefs and values along the way, may be one of the most rebellious and controversial acts we could choose in our current cultural landscape.”
“I left that day knowing that sometimes even doing good is not enough. Sometimes we just have to sit with what’s hard and humiliating about the difficult work of unity and do our best not to let it kill us.”
“But maybe it’s worth showing up anyway. Maybe we still show up just to prove that kindness and proximity aren’t always about our comfort. We keep showing up to remind ourselves that dignity and hope weigh more than humiliation’s sting.”
“They stopped whatever they were doing to see what was actually happening, and they extended what they had to offer in order to meet me where I was. Isn’t this how we find our way back to one another? We have to remember what it was like to feel lost and alone.”
“When we let silence do its work, we leave space for the delayed hope of possibility. We may not have spoken our piece, but we leave space for the peace that could one day break through and draw us closer in our humanity.”
My thanks to Net Galley, WaterBrook
& Multnomah for the review copy
sharing with Grace & Truth
- My Brothers, This Is Personal
- Whatever Your Volume, Say Something