Footsteps upon Footsteps

I don’t get angry when I hear the heavy steps cross over my head at night. I know the family is home and the house is full. I hear the click clacking of Airedale toenails and smile imagining the sweet and silly face of Phoebe.

These foot steps are comforting. It’s a signal that I am not alone. A year ago I would be writing this in a condo bedroom while listening to the neighbors screaming and slamming doors. A bump on the wall sent a small shockwave through the system. It took a long time before I stopped flinching.

Now it’s just a tennis ball dropping out of a playful puppy’s mouth.

I am safe here.

This is major. My nervous system has been repairing itself over the years and we are here. In this moment, where God needs me most. Ready to fight. Brave enough to risk. Strong enough to stay up. I am picking up the torch of the queer people that came before me and continuing the cause. Following in their footsteps along the endless road to equality and freedom.

The God of my heart has provided the holy land for me. A loving home, an encouraging parent, a community who supports my voice and safety.  I have been heard by my people and reunited with the proper soul group: The Helpers.

I am so grateful to God for the abundance. The abundance that some of his followers say I wouldn’t get because of my sins. Yet here I am living in it because God is good… all the time. All the time, Good is good.

I have stepped out of the forest and found the clearing. This is where I build my church.