Or, shall I say, the bug of justice that people want to say is about what happens in my bed. But here is the deal folks. Love, happens in about 80 hundred thousand gah-gillion million other places than in bed. You know that, I know you do.
Something happened on November 4th, and I am finding it extremely hard to go back.
I have always taken this beautiful child's sign to heart: Lead by example, demonstrate tolerance, equality, justice. I have had a sign up at my desk ever since I first heard the quote, attributed to St. Francis of Assisi:
This has been my life, my message.
Most who know me know that I have NOT been the flag waving, sticker bearing, queer that some feel called to be. Sure I go to gay pride festivals and am by no means in a closet of any kind. I just don't think that my queer-ness defines me, it feels like such a narrow view of me and the whole fabulous-ness of who I truly am and am called to be. I just want to be me, the me who is just "normal" like you. I want what you want: a home, a job, food on my table, to enjoy the company of friends and family. I want a spouse, love, safety, laughter and I want to give to my communities of faith and interests.
But something happened in reading the results on November 5th, the day after. A piece of my being, that I never knew existed, woke up and said "hey – that is you they are discriminating against, you can't deny that or ignore it any longer."
Yes, I will continue to let my life be my message. I will continue to show love, like the love I have with my beloved. But a voice from within is beginning to rise.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart always be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my God.