Unapologetically Me

Yesterday marked the beginning of Lent. Initially I planned on fasting from meats and sweets and spending more time sitting in the presence of God. Yet the closer Lent came I couldn’t help but wonder when Lent ended. Lately, I ’ ve felt locked in a season and space with massive losses, bottomless heartache, and suffering both personally and collectively. I keep wondering where to place ashes on my ashen covered face. Recently my counselor told me about the Stanford Prison experiment and the emotional impact it had on those who were cast as prisoners. If you’re unfamiliar with it, the Stanford Prison experiment reveals, “What happens when you put good people in an evil place? Does Humanity win over evil, or does evil triumph? These are some of the questions [they] posed in this dramatic simulation of prison life conducted in 1971 at Stanford University.” My counselor noted how the experiment needed to end because of how quickly people begin to abuse the prisoners. She then asked...

I encourage you to read Lent Reflection Part 1 for a bit more context I have enough ashes; I ’ m still wearing the Skin that I ’ m in How can I begin this one when the first one really didn ’ t end All the wardens keep treating me one way because of the skin and gender I ’ m assigned It feels like it ’ ll be this way to the end of time So even though Lent has begun again I don ’ t quite know what to do with the collective sin That is hurled upon my mind, body, and soul Propelled by the legacy and lies that believers of the White Christ have told That he ’ s only come to save me from my darkened self A dis jointed theology that needs to permanently be removed from our library shelves A theology that cheapens God ’ s mercy and grace The one that lets people smile as we place ashes upon their face What do you do when you wake and your heart is overwhelmed with despair And you look around at those Easter Sunday folks who don ’ t seem to care As they tell y...

Confronting death is never an easy matter, no matter how old or young the person who dies is. No matter what, we will all have to confront death at some point or another in our lives. And when someone famous passes away collective grief and mourning begins. The first time I really confronted death was less than a year after graduating high school. I was barely 19 years old when I learned that a childhood classmate whom I’d known since the 2nd grade passed away suddenly. Here we all were ready to begin our lives, but on that day we were confronted by the end of hers. As we sat in the church in an unexpected class reunion, shock overwhelmed our senses. All I can recall was the reprise of “Goin’ up Yonder.” A song I had heard before that somehow was supposed to bring comfort at the idea that she and one day we would be “goin’ up Yonder...to be with my Lord.” To a 19-year-old, these words didn't bring any comfort but only pulled me into the depths of cont...