Home Again Home Again–Jiggity Jig

Dear Diary, Dear Diary (and friends and random weird lurky people who find my blog by googling "what you can do  while pooping"):

Its been a while huh? Yeah, I thought I would have time during the 76th Triennial General Convention of the Episcopal Church to do some personal writing/blogging too. Yeah, not so much. Its been a crazy few weeks; perhaps you will let me share a few thoughts, capture some ideas while they are still funky fresh? Thanks diary et al.

Its a funny thing, going away from home, work, family, and routine for two weeks. Exciting yes, nerve-wracking to be sure, but funny mostly; in that ha-ha sort of way and in that wtf sort of way. I mean really, its like the start of a huge joke that might go something like "what do you get when you put 30 homos (and allys) who love G-d and the Episcopal Church together in one room and work 'em over long hours over 12 days?" Punchline: One mess of beautiful, justice oriented, Jesus lovin', snap heeeyyyyy fabulousness that has a wicked sense of humor and a big ol' pair of bitch pants from time to time. 

We laughed: Planet Unicorn was introduced to many, including me. We ate at strange hours, in interesting places, and various stages of refrigeration. We were punchy and HI-larious (although I bet if I tried to retell some of the jokes or stories it might leave you wondering).

We (ok, I and a few nameless others) cried: You just cannot throw 30 people together, put them to work with little ice-breaking time, and not expect this to happen. Toes were stepped on. Sleep was well, irregular at best, straight up lacking for many. The work we were called to do–to help move the Episcopal Church beyond B033 and move towards all the sacraments for all the baptized–is about us–the LGBT people who make up a part of the Episcopal Church. It is very personal work.

Tears were shed for long days, misunderstandings and miscues. They were also shed for new friendships, for courage and beauty displayed in personal stories, and for celebrations–of finishing the work we were called to do.

We left: Now I am home, back in realityville. I am tired (still, but almost caught up on sleep), I am missing getting 30+ hugs a day. I miss the energy, the pace, and mostly feeling connected to something that seemed to connect back to me. I miss new faces, new opportunities and seeing old friends.

I am not unhappy. I am coming down from the mountain. I would not have it any other way, but I totally get where Peter was coming from, wanting to stay, make tents, and live in shiney transfiguration-land, feeling all warm and Jesus squishy.

I am home, with my beloved, my Tigger, my friends, my work. Its not sexy, its not all glammed up and Episco-tarty, its not twubbed and status-tastic. It is home, it is good, it is in fact Ubuntastic. Amen.

Look for an updated look sometime in the next week or so. Sorry for those of you who can't quite believe I am still reading Tribes (I am not) and listening to William Fitzsimmons (I am, and you should too.)