Who We Are

What if we lived in a world where no one had to ask because it had already been given. No one would need a hand out or a hand up because we had all collectively chosen let go, refusing to anticipate getting or receiving, because this mentality goes against Who We Are. We facilitate growth, letting go of what was not ours in the first place, pushing forward an entity that could propel another into an entirely different universe. What if what’s mine is yours, and I see safety inside of you?   Regardless of how beautiful any other religion is, regardless of how much we pretend and create stories over others, no matter any of our collective efforts to edge out our fellow man, in a world of difference, of superiority, the foundation of equity laid by the Son of Man is unquestionable.  Over and over again, He extends the answer. To forgive, to love, to be the last in line.  Even when we know it ourselves. And have the audacity to ask, once more, for clarificat...

Church leadership advises or asks us to not attend services at the campus we led; they do offer, in a conciliatory way, to attend services at another campus. This proposition is not readily accepted by Kevin or I, as he can barely hold his head above water when around others. Friends ask if we want Harper and Elijah to attend the kid’s program, the same program they had both been attending since birth. The same children’s ministry I had covered when we were down on volunteers, even though, I for the most part, had really never enjoyed being around children. I decline, as my realization of how to move forward in this impossible situation is murky, and I have to plug the hemmorrhage of suffering and confusion for the kids. A voice of reason is in me, but the roof is only over the kids and Kevin. All I do is cry. Then sob. I try to ask questions, to myself, and then to Kevin, but we are both caged animals, trapped under a magnifying lens, beaming a consistent concentration of immeasurable...

All of the layers begin to unfold as we trudge on, after leaving the stage, we walk 20 feet over to our house, I don’t remember what we did. Many of our close friends come to us offering love and support. They come over and over again. The church would hold a healing service later on that evening that Kevin and I have no clue about, even though we are the reason for it. We are not invited to participate, and only find out later through friends saying how much meaning and comfort it brought them. I smile and nod, distancing myself emotionally from the absolute uprooted nature of my relationship with the church. How strange, to be a central part of something, and then not, and then be shut out of a process of healing. I stand outside of this process, intentionally or not, and feel very still. This stillness is not peace or understanding but a universal effort to keep both feet on the ground as the world has in no way stopped to accommodate me.  Everything in our lives to...