Interlude 5

“What about Jesus?”

I asked him what he meant by that.

“Why can’t we just hold to what Jesus says and throw away the rest of the bullshit? Why isn’t there a church that does that?”

I didn’t have an answer for him. His question was too innocent and too deep for my pat answers and rote theological treatises.

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Higher Power

Zeroing in on my fear, my mentor kept pushing me to express my gender the way I truly felt inside. I told him ‘no’ every time, growing more and more firm in my answer. Now he and I both knew why… I was terrified of the people who would reject me, mock me, and dismiss me. I was terrified of the people who would brand me as Less Than. I wasn’t in the closet any more in word. However, in deed, I was still hiding. In plain sight.

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Acceptance

“Do you know how I know you have a problem with alcohol?”
I shook my head.
One of the other group members, a former military guy and admitted alcoholic, spoke up, “Because you didn’t dump it down the sink. Shit, man, that’s a valuable liquid as far as guys like you and me are concerned. We wouldn’t dump liquid gold down the drain.”
It had never occurred to me to dump it down the drain.

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Intervention

He gave me a few simple thoughts on everything he had just learned about me.

“You sit down with Carrie and you don’t end that conversation until she commits to your marriage or commits to a divorce.”

He also gave me some advice about being transgender.

“It is not your responsibility to change the world. When people hear about the level of pain you’ve been experiencing, they will grab the easiest answer they can find in order to distance themselves from your pain. Let them have it.”

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Interlude 4

I finally understood why God led me to that particular Grief Symbol. Just like that weed would always be on the farm, I would always be Trans. The only way to not be Trans would be to kill my heart, which would destroy everything beautiful in my life in the process. I thought about Jesus’ teaching about weeds and wheat, how they grew together and couldn’t be separated without killing everything.

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Truth

There was really only one problem I encountered as I came to grips with how I was made: The Secret. It eroded the ground beneath me. It met me in the gaze that looked back in the mirror. It dunked me in cold water every time a chauvinistic man questioned my manhood in that typical asshole-yet-friendly way North American men talk to each other. It cried out to be acknowledged every time I talked to my LGBT brothers and sisters.

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Folly

I felt the Holy Spirit whisper two words to me: Men’s Ministry.

I didn’t want to do Men’s Ministry. It was the shittiest role in any church in America. Men by and large disliked the church and what we offered them through it. Shit, I hated what we offered them through it… that’s why I had started my ministry outside of any church. We could say four letter words without getting into trouble at The Inner Kingdom. We could watch a movie that showed boobies without anybody getting their panties into a wad. We could sit around fires and talk about deep things without having to use a fucking sports metaphor every goddamn time.

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