"He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" Micah 6:8
I woke up that day certain I was wrong about the date. Could it be? How was it here already?
As a child, I was desperate to have a cast. At some point in elementary school, my classmates started showing up with brightly colored arms and legs, casted to protect their quietly healing broken bones.
I grew up in a Methodist Church in a small town in North Carolina. When I reached my pre-teen years, I moved from the children’s programming to Methodist Youth Fellowship, or MYF. Most of the time, I felt comfortable with the lessons they were teaching. Except for the talks about sex and sexual purity.
In her book The United Methodist Deacon, Rev. Dr. Margaret Ann Crain explains, “Because deacons are also ordained but usually do not do what elders do, we are challenged to think about ordination as identity rather than function.”
“Every gay person must come out.
As difficult as it is, you must tell your immediate family.
You must tell your relatives.
You must tell your friends, if indeed they are your friends.”
Depicted clockwise: Spirit of Maná, Spirit of Aloha, Poli’ahu, Pelé, Hina, NāMaka, Papahānoumoku
It started with Pelé, the Hawai’ian Volcano Goddess who governs fire, lightning, volcanoes, and the flow of lava. When my little family set off on a big adventure in June 2015, I knew I’d research and paint her as a Holy Woman Icon.
I was 13 and sitting in the basement of my childhood home in the Amish-laden countryside of Pennsylvania.
“...then their eyes were opened and they recognized him.” –Luke 24:31
Jesus will find us anywhere. As soon as we give him permission, his quest for our hearts is endless.
I remember when I first came out as queer—first to myself, next to my first girlfriend and friends, and lastly to family.