This week.

This week I write with a humbled heart. This week, in rural El Paso County, I sit in my little church among the Ponderosas and falling Aspen leaves and pray. This week.

Before Thursday. Before Sunday.

On Tuesday, I began to engage Micah 6:8. Do Justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God. The Rabbi last night quoted Jeremiah. Be righteous and kind. Because this week required the voices of the prophets.

On Tuesday I began to craft a sermon on Micah 6 using the stories of our country on that day. A day when our government risked navigating human dignity and equality of our Transgender siblings. Siblings, because we are all children of God. Related in love and compassion. Related in hope and mercy and most of all a ton of Grace. All of those things being the blood of faith;

shed for us,

blessed for us,

poured for us in remembrance of who we belong to...each other. I began that day with wonderings and musings not knowing what lie ahead.

Friday morning, I sit to write. I write about requirement. I write about covenants. I write about the stories of our bible. Neither is there Male, Nor female, for you all are all one in Christ Jesus. Galatians 3:28. I write about the stories of our world. Did I mention, it was also the last Sunday of our Stewardship Campaign? I write about these things and then I write about the importance of investing in a community such as this, in times such as this.

Saturday morning-Saturday afternoon and then into the evening. Seventy-two hours of hell. Defeat. The valley. The world turned upside down, feeling like eternal torment. Living fiery portrait of the devils world. Theology of hell at its best.

Mail box bombs. Racism. Antisemitism. Mass shootings.

This week.

Had the events of our transgender community upset the empire? Then, they came home to their white, male, wealthy, cisgender kingdom to "kick the vulnerable (dog)." Perhaps misplacing their grief of a world fighting against dominance? Kicking the opponent, kicking the marginalized, kicking the ones with historical trauma. Kicking the ones that don't claim power and privilege in this place and time? When someone in power over you forces something upon you, and you in turn force something on someone under you. Might this be, what happened?

Sunday, I preached the sermon, I wrote Friday morning. Though, I did arrive early to church. I gathered eleven white candles, a plate full of t-candles, matches and a hymn of grief. I sung the singing bowl. We sang the hymn together, lit the candles and brought heaven to the hell. Replacing the empire with God's Kin-dom, if only for an hour.

This is why we invest in a place such as this, in times such as this.