My toddler sobbed uncontrollably as she tried to open the door. I calmly – or at least I tried to be calm – told her that she had to wear a diaper. She continued to pout. I continued to wait. After sobbing for a few minutes, she reluctantly realized that I was right. When God asked me to speak out publicly about racial reconciliation, I threw a tantrum that mimicked my daughter's. Like my daughter, I wanted to do it my way.