Tag Archives: journey

Today I Choose to Wear an Orange Shirt

By Posted in Life Lessons, Poetry Tagged , , , , , , Leave a comment 
Can I be honest?
I don't like the colour orange.
Sure, there are places it can spark joy
In dancing flames
In leaves turned to brilliant fiery hues
during the cooling nights of autumn
In the happiness of marigolds

But in clothing or decorating?
Nope, I just don't get it.
Maybe it's growing up in the seventies
And I can't help but associate orange
with uncomfortable brown polyester pants

And orange shirts in particular?
Let's continue with the honesty here
I'm not small. I'm not thin.
I never have been.
And wearing an orange shirt
makes me feel like a giant pumpkin
despite years of work
learning to love the body 
that is mine,
childhood taunts still ring in my ears

Yes, there are options
An orange shirt pin
An orange accessory
to ease my inherent discomfort
in wearing an orange shirt

But today is not about me.
Today is a reminder of the harm done
Today is for honouring those who survived
and remembering those who did not.

I have the choice to wear what I choose
A choice that was taken away from Phyllis

And so I put aside my discomfort
I choose to listen
I choose to learn
I choose to be open to new ways 
of seeing and understanding the world
I choose not to look away from the harm done
and the ways the harm continues to be perpetuated
I choose to recognize how I benefit
I choose to consider how I can walk
more gently on this land that
my ancestors settled on without invitation
I choose to be grateful for the stewardship
of the Anishinaabe and the Haudenosaunee
on whose lands I was raised and grew to adulthood
oblivious of the history right around me
and of the lək̓ʷəŋən Peoples on whose lands
I now live, work, play and write as my whole self
Today I choose to wear an Orange Shirt

Today is Orange Shirt Day. If you’re not familiar with Orange Shirt Day, please visits OrangeShirtDay.org and read Phyllis Webstad’s story.

Yes, the federal government has chosen to call it the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, but that’s not how the day started. For thoughts on that change, I’d recomend reading this thread from @OnaagoshinAnang on Twitter.

I’m going to spend much of my day reading the memoir Apocalypse Child by Carly Bulter and listening to the Gord Downie & Chanie Wenjack Fund’s A Day to Listen. When I pause for a bit to scroll on social media, I will be seeking to amplify Indigenous voices, because those are the stories we need to hear.

And even though I’m going to be at home for much of the day, I will be wearing my Orange Shirt.

You know where you belong

By Posted in Lectio Divina Ponderings, Poetry Tagged , , , Leave a comment 
Beloved
whether you can perceive them
or not
you are not alone
keep soaring
you are making progress
even when you cannot see
the destination
and all seems covered in fog
you know the path
it is who you are
it is part of your DNA
you know where you belong
photo of a notebook with the words "Marke the world a little kinder" and a photo of a goose flying in the fog sitting on top of the notebook

Written during a contemplative spirituality retreat during a reflective practice called visio divina. It’s similar to lectio divina, but you use an image to focus your attention as you reflect. This was my image and the notebook I wrote in. I do not know who created the image.

Sacred Space

By Posted in Poetry Tagged , , , , Leave a comment
Photo of Derek Webb wearing a white tshirt and black jeans playing his guitar during concert in a chuch. There is a stained glass window behind him and the backs of two concert goers in the foreground
Photo by karencee – Derek Webb’s It All Matters After All concert in Tacoma, WA at Urban Grace Church.
Words and notes joined together
Ligaments and tendons
Building bonds of connection 
Creating community

Communal rhythm 
In breath, in body, in voice
Bridging the past with the now 
Creating harmonies for this moment

Stories shared 
Laughter and life on full display
Reinterpreting well-loved songs
Creating new layers of memory

Gathered together
To listen and experience
Remembering or living the first time
Creating sacred space

Maybe hope
doesn't just whisper
after all

It’s been a while since I’ve been to an unfamiliar church for a concert by a singer/songwriter whose music plays such a integral role in the soundtrack of my life.

With many thanks to Derek Webb. Music has always been part of how I make sense of my world and my faith. As much as I hoped that wasn’t lost forever, it seemed likely that it was until I discovered your music. Thank you for being a complicated person and giving voice to the complexity of life and faith.

Ten years further on …

By Posted in Life Lessons, Poetry Tagged , , , , , Leave a comment
A photo of me, a woman with purple framed glasses, greying hair and a big grin, wearing a loose fitting purple tunic top, standing facing the camera with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge and the city of San Franscisco behind me.
Me! Taken by my friend Matt on a trip into San Francisco a couple of weeks ago.
ten years ago
I thought I understood
the price of hate
ten thousand children
tossed away in the name of
protecting orthodoxy 
rather than allowing
homosexuals to be treated
with dignity and equality
I couldn't understand 
that version of christianity
concluded I was done
never to return
but, it made me find my voice
take pride in who 
God created me to be
entirely, unashamedly
queer
 
ten years further on...
there are micro labels 
giving details to queer
I better understand
who I am
how I got to 43 
before knowing 
I wasn't straight
queer
cisgender
asexual
sapphically-oriented
panromantic
but still
queer
 
ten years further on...
the price of hate
grown exponentially
our trans and non-binary siblings
attacked verbally and physically
on a daily basis
their lives at risk for living 
the truth of who 
they were created to be
the charge led by those
claiming to speak 
on behalf of a God 
defined by love but
perverted into fear and hate
of everything
queer
 
ten years further on...
I've experienced the gift of love
unconditional, freely given
without expectation of return
seeking the flourishing of all
I've found faith in God 
allowing my full self
all of my questions
all of my doubts
all of my queerness
without having to hide
I've learned there is much more
than I was taught
evangelical christianity isn't
the only understanding
liberation for all 
is possible if your faith is
queer
 
ten years further on ...
I am grateful
that I didn't know
until I was ready
until my family could accept
who I am
until I could accept 
who I am
I am grateful
for friends old and new
who see me for who I am
for chosen family
some by biology, most not
who love me and see
my queerness
I am grateful
for my family of faith
in-person and online
richer community 
than I had ever known
because I can be fully 
queer
Today is ten years since I came out about being queer. I'd only figured it out about 8 months before. It feels both like yesterday and like a lifetime ago. 
For those who have been part of the journey, thank you. 
For my partner who I never imagined I would find, I love you and I'm so grateful for you and the delightfully queer family we have created. You will always have my heart.
For my chosen family, you know who you are, my life would not be as rich without you.
For my queer community of faith, I am so grateful for each and every one of you. I see Jesus in you in every encounter, in person and online. The fruit is real and it is very good. Don't ever doubt that despite what accusations are hurled in hate and fear.
For queer elders, both in age and experience, thank you for sharing your wisdom, for fighting for our rights, and seeking to make our world a place where we all can thrive.

A little time

By Posted in Lectio Divina Ponderings, Poetry Tagged , , Leave a comment 
Give me a little time ...
  we didn't get here
  suddenly
  we won't find the path forward
  immediately

Give yourself a little time ...
  you burnt out
  you exhausted your reserves
  you won't be magically fixed
  without time to rest

Give us a little time ...
  to explore again
  who you are
  to grow into 
  who you long to be

Inspired by the reading of Mary Oliver’s poem “Blue Iris” during tonight’s Lectio Divina practice.

Photo of purple irises in front of a stone wall
Photo: Karencee – Purple Irises (Somewhere I must have a photo of blue irises, but it’s hiding so purple will have to do)

As I have never been before

By Posted in Lectio Divina Ponderings, Life Lessons, Poetry Tagged , , 1 Comment 
I am here
as I have never been
before

I've been on this path before
in this very spot before
so many times before
over countless years before

and yet ...

it is not the same
as it was before

I am not the same
as I was before

it does not have to be
as it was before

same path
same spot
new choices

I am here
as I have never been
before

With thanks to a couple lines from Wendell Berry’s poem “Rembember that it happened once” for inspiration found during our Lectio Divina practice a few weeks back.

Choosing Gratitude

By Posted in Life Lessons, Poetry, Written a long time ago Tagged , , 1 Comment 
unexpected
a name from the past
appears on my screen
my world tilts on its axis
forgetting for a moment
I am not the same

how easy to slip
back into old habits
back into anger
back to proecting myself
at all costs
seeking desperately to belong

suddenly
I'm the scared almost ten year old
still looking 
for a place to belong
at twenty
and even thirty years old

but I'm not
I have grown
I own my story

I understand now
what he meant in my life
why he had such power to hurt
what he taught me
and I can look back in gratitude
almost

gratitude
for believing in me
loving me
not trying to change me
accepting me
unconditionally
seeing worth and value
and beauty in me

gratitude
almost, but not quite
claiming my vulnerable story is new
old habits of fear
dig sharp claws deep

then I lived unknowing
unthinking
giving away my power
stuck in fear and shame

now I live 
understanding
able to choose
acceptance
forgiveness
gratitude

Written April 11, 2012 and originally published on my old blog.

Apparently I’ve forgotten things I knew then and also there were things then I hadn’t even begun to figure out. The story of that friendship makes much more sense now on this side of the closet door.

Also looking back … it never really was about unconditional love and acceptance, but that was how I experienced it at the time and how I remembered it when I wrote this. This side of the closet door and this far in the journey out of the toxic theology of evangelical Christianity, I have a different understanding of what those things mean.

Goodbye GLBG (Good Little Baptist Girl)

By Posted in Life Lessons, Poetry, Written a long time ago Tagged , , , , Leave a comment 
once upon a time I knew
Child of God
Created in His image
Christian
Believer

or at least
I acted like I knew

I did believe
I wanted to believe
I was scared if I didn’t believe

The GLBG
“Good Little Baptist Girl”
was what I knew

all I knew how to be
all I thought
I should be

but The GLBG
was always afraid
what if someone finds out?

what if someone realizes
The GLBG doesn’t
read her Bible
or pray
everyday
or even
every week

what if someone discovers
The GLBG would rather do
anything other than
pray out loud
in a group

what if someone discerns
The GLBG doesn’t believe quite
as hard as they do
or that the GLBG can’t
just take it on faith
because the bible
or the church
or the pastor
says it is so

The GLBG always knew
if she were known
she would be cast out
adrift
cut off
unwanted
unloved
because she was never
enough

Not good enough
Not spiritual enough
Not … something she didn’t even have words for …
enough

The GLBG knew if anyone
God included
looked deep enough
she would be found out

The GLBG hung on to faith
for as long as she could
she hid her GLBG heritage
and tried to live into
the faith she claimed
with freedom
and compassion
and grace

but eventually
she failed

even freedom
compassion
and grace are not enough
when you don’t actually believe
they could ever apply
to you
 
so I left
I wandered
I explored
I listened

eventually
I found words
for what was deep inside

I cried
I raged
I hated
I loved
I listened some more

The GLBG
slipped away
I learned
not to be afraid
not to hide

Goodbye GLBG
I don’t need you anymore
I am enough

unexpectedly
my path wandered back
I didn’t plan it
I tried to avoid it
but I found myself
at home in a church
where I am not afraid
where I hear words from the pulpit
that assure me of
unconditional love
grace
acceptance
as I am

a queer person
of faith
who doesn’t really know
what she believes
but does know
that if god
by whatever name you call
is to be found
they

(singular or plural
you choose
but definitely
non-gender specific)

they will be found
in the depths
in the darkness
in the margins
in the hopeless
in the lost
in the wanderers

Originally published on my old blog in January 2017 as my entry in that year’s Queer Theology Synchroblog on the theme of “Identity”

Reclaiming what was taken

By Posted in Life Lessons, Poetry Tagged , , , Leave a comment 
you took something that day
or maybe, I gave it away?
No. it wasn't my choice

it was your actions
your carelessness, your selfishness
your lack of willingness ... or maybe ability
to understand how your actions affected
someone else

that shouldn't have been a surprise
the history, the pattern, 
well-established by then 
and yet ... it was 
because I was the one 
you trusted more than the others
and so I thought you were the one I could trust

I want to say you took my innocence
but someone will assume something sexual
it was never that, not between us

whatever I call what you took
after that day I trusted even less easily
you'd seen more deeply than I'd let anyone see before
still not to the truth
but back then I didn't let myself see that deep either

but you had seen what I knew then and
you had tangible reminders, words I'd written
words I'd reluctantly shared
until you sent them back

you said later it was about not deserving them
but at the time
you said less than nothing
other than you didn't want
them ... or me? ... anymore

I was ... heartbroken
the word I used that night through my sobbing tears
swinging at the park with the only person
I could still trust enough 
was ... violated

it's taken a very long time
almost thirty years
before I've felt the same freedom
to write with vulnerability that I knew before that day

I didn't block you when you 
reappeared on the edge of my life this time
I thought that was giving away my power
I let you lurk
at some level wondering when you'd engage

I'm done waiting
leaving you lurking ... 
that is what gives away my power
you're not in my world
your voice no longer holds any sway
you are gone never to return

I guess you could say I’ve been unpacking some boxes.

Mainly I wrote this for me because I needed to take back my power, but maybe it will also reminds someone else that they can also reclaim what was taken from them.

And even if it doesn’t, part of reclaiming what was taken is giving myself permission to share the words I’ve written even if they might really only make sense to me, because sometimes all we can do is tell our stories in whatever form they come most naturally.

Pieces

By Posted in Poetry, Written a long time ago Tagged , , Leave a comment 
selling my soul
piece by tiny piece
all in the effort
to be what someone else
wants me to be

I've stayed here
longer than I planned
commitment made
commitment must be kept
even if I didn't know the cost

piece by tiny piece
heart hardened to avoid pain
emotions shut off to avoid anger
joy lost in the midst of frustration

the end is almost here
commitement soon fulfilled
piece by tiny piece
sold not to disappoint
the ones who matter

no one see the cost
piece by tiny piece
hard won contentment chipped away
long searched for faith stretched to breaking
soon release will come
will the pieces be found again

Written May 24, 2009 during a sermon I clearly wasn’t paying attention to at the church I was attending back then, but not for much longer. I guess you could say this was the start of what would become my deconstruction story.