Tag Archives: father knows best

I am having some difficulty these days feeling anything like charity towards the people, the institutions, and – let’s tell the truth – the churches that have taught you and so many other people to feel shame about your sexuality.

Like stories, like music, like theater, like love, faith operates in that realm of experience that refuses to be measured, weighed, or proven.

What’s critical to understand is that this kind of racism – what we might call explicit racism – doesn’t exist on its own.

Yes, being born into a body that is at odds with your gender, a body that makes puberty into a betrayal, is something that happens.

As the sad gray of November rolls in, I say, “I can make it to the winter solstice,” and after that, “I can make it to daylight saving time.”

First, God listens always.