Alright.

I haven’t felt the muse to blog recently. Between the new call, the move, and dealing with all of the emotions that go with being in a new city (Columbus. COLUMBUS!), I knew I needed to be writing something, but honestly, the link between the words and the screen was broken…until today.

Over the last four weeks, I have gone from the highest highs to the lowest lows. I had a major victory, but it came at an overwhelming cost: my name was scandalized, I was lied on (even with tape), and one person attempted to have me removed from the pulpit. Why? Because I had the unmitigated gall to preach a sermon that made some folks uncomfortable (and honestly, from where I sit, should have been good news to all who heard the sermon, especially for the marginalized. However, some folks will defend patriarchy, no matter what.)

This is not a new phenomenon, especially when one follows in the footsteps of troublemakers – y’all call them prophets. Folks far and wide know that I trod the paths of some of the most well known “good trouble” causers, both religious and secular. I also know that comes with a cost, and I have paid that cost many times during my attempts to free people from shackles they sometimes don’t even know are keeping them bound. It comes with a cost, especially when you are bucking against powerful people. It comes with a cost, and sometimes, you will lose followers and members.

This has been my experience for the last 28 days, and today was the “enough” day. Once again, someone found fault with my sermon, and I realized in that moment that all sermons are not for everyone every Sunday. Sometimes it’s for me, sometimes it’s not. I always get something OUT of it, but some days I am called to speak into the lives of others in a real, experiential day. (I’m going somewhere with this – enjoy the ride, even if you have to grab the “Oh Shit” handle.)

After service and a nap, we drove the six hours home, and halfway through, my satellite radio decided to take a break from service. So I queued up my favorite playlist, and in the midst of it, a song played, and I needed to hear more of the album. So I queued up the album, and PJ Morton, along with the Hamiltones, reminded me that everything is gonna be alright. EVERYTHING’S gonna be alright.

And after the third listen, the damn dam broke, the tears fell, and I let it go, because I KNOW, in my heart, that everything’s going to be alright, even if the world IS going crazy.

Have a great day…on purpose!