Wednesday, October 19, 2016

I hate life (Genesis 3:8-11)

I hate this walk. I hate life. And here She comes.

Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and they hid themselves from the Lord God among the trees of the garden. So the Lord God called out to the man and said to him, "Where are you?"

And he said, "I heard You in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid."

Genesis 8-11 (HCSB)

Today I walked with God through the forest. I wore my rainbow shoes. Queer pride on display. Queer pride taking me forward.

I didn't get far and soon realized my mistake: my old nemesis - mud. It is found in society as that deep sucking, sinking-past-your-ankle, stealing-your-shoes-mud of fear and anxiety. How often did it send me home barefooted to my angry mother?

"Where are our shoes, boy?!"

Sure enough - gluck, gluck, gluck - my queer pride was snatched away. Fearfully, I raised my naked feet.

"Shit!" I shouted. Forgetting I was on a walk with God my Mother. 

Great - lost shoes, lost pride, and now my loose tongue will get my mouth washed out.

I hate this walk. 

I hate life at this moment.

And here She comes. 

Failing this thing called "faith," I start stammering out the ten commandments. Couldn't remember but three of them. So I start to quote the Beatitudes? Crap, who is among the blessed? Certainly not me. 

She's here. Stinking rainbow shoes muddying her hands. In Her eyes - laughter.