My granddaddy on my father’s side had klan ties. He wasn’t blood related, my dad never knew his real father, and somehow that makes me feel better, as if blood has anything to do with the way we’re blinded by hate and lies and all the separating we do when we make people less than or other. I’ve come to know that blood is the only thing that sets us free but that’s another story. Needless to say, I never really knew him. My dad was born into the dirty south in the 1950s. He was threadbare …
God
Living in Exile and Finding My Way Home
I. I've asked a lot of God lately. There was a time, not so long ago when my god was poor and mean. I had a theology built on suffering. A god who was always a bit out of reach for frail hands and weak prayers. He was the Jesus who taught righteousness through selling it all and giving to the poor. I thought that’s what he meant. I could find holiness if I just sacrificed enough. He was a god who was always teaching lessons like a wizened schoolmaster rapping his stick across knuckles as I …
You’re Good Enough Part 3
This post is part of a series telling a longer story. You can find yesterday’s post I Am From White Also, But Not Only here and Standing at the Margins: I Don't Belong here. It makes more sense if you read them in order but I get that you probably also have a life and may not have the time to read 4,000+ words. Carry on. I. If you know where you’re going, you might not always know how you’re going to get there, but you’ll know when you’ve arrived. The biggest battle to get words to the page …
