It’s Sunday, and I missed church. Again. This time it was so I could sleep in, though usually it’s because of soccer. I used to…
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Trigger Warning: homophobia/transphobia
“I am proud to know you. Seeing you stand down hate with courage and resolve inspires me. XO”
A friend sent these words to me along with some pics she snapped on Friday after I spoke at the local Trans Day of Visibility rally and then engaged some protesters in conversation. She wanted me to see how she saw me, which was nice, because I mostly just see myself as a special kind of crazy.
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Several months ago I realized I’d stopped hearing God. I’d gotten so deep into the busy work of my calling that I just didn’t notice the absence until the silence became deafening. I began to occasionally pray for some sort of indication that I wasn’t alone and that I was still on the right path, but things were going fairly smoothly, so I wasn’t too concerned. Weeks passed and still, radio silence.
In the meantime, awful things happened. The Pulse massacre. The shootings of Philando Castille and Alton Sterling. I was strong for friends until there was nothing left. I felt tapped out, emptied, and still God was nowhere to be found.
1 CommentIf you are not colorblind (in the medical sense) and are otherwise a “seeing” person, you might have to trust the truth of people who are colorblind when they tell you that shades of color exist differently than the ones you perceive with your own eyes. It’s not that your experience of color isn’t also valid, it’s just not the whole picture. You can’t even be aware of what you cannot see the same if you rely solely on your own perception of color. At some point you might realize you need to be open to the idea that you cannot see what many others experience in a different way, and you might decide to let them teach you about the way they perceive color.
Now hold on to that understanding of depending on others to understand the world more fully as we dive a little deeper.
Leave a CommentI first saw hate up close and personal in my early teens. I intervened when a couple of guys from school decided it was a good day to beat up one of my best friends because they perceived him as being gay. Did you get that? They didn’t know, they just assumed, and they deemed him worthy of a beating because of it.
Something in me broke that day. I felt it snap, and as I jogged around the cemetery near my house that evening to shed the remaining adrenaline and anger from the fight, I lashed out at God. Yep. That’s right. Little ol’ teenage me was furious with God. Please let me explain.
2 CommentsI have a confession. I occasionally struggle with anger and resentment. I know! For some of you this is a shocking thing to read! Many of my friends and family tell me my usual posts (which haven’t made it to my blog yet) are inspiring, uplifting, encouraging and generally positive. I’m here to tell you that just because I want to put positive vibes out into a world that’s already overflowing with negativity doesn’t mean that I don’t sometimes deal with negative thoughts and feelings. Even we annoyingly positive people still live in the real world and deal with real problems and pain.
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