I want to open with a meditation and a series of questions that I posed in a recent letter to my friends back home, honoring the two-week mark of the 2007 Equality Ride.

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart (Luke 2:19).

One week of training. One week on the road. I search within myself for a place to begin this entry.

How do I recreate for you, with any accuracy, the profound sense of self that I feel when I stand vigil outside a property line, or step onto a closed campus, creating with my body that space which has been denied?

How do I recreate for you the moment when a student says, “Thank you. No one has ever done this before. Most people just ignore our school” – the moment when a student joins the vigil line – the moment when a student stands up in the face of so much hostility and says, without apology, “This is who I am”?

How do I recreate for you the moment when a community member says, “We are going to continue what you started” – the moment when a hotel worker says, “I should be out there with you; thank you for standing up for me” – the moment when a trucker honks and waves in solidarity as our bus rolls through Iowa?

How do I recreate for you the pride that I feel when I am associated – through uniform, proximity, and/or company – with the slogan: Social Justice for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender People?

How do I recreate for you a student’s tentative steps out of the closet – whether that be a closeted identity or a closeted mind, well-meaning but steeped in misinformation?

How do I recreate for you the significance of having my own grandparents, my sister, and my sister’s boyfriend in attendance at Equality Ride events, personalizing this journey for me in a way that I could never have imagined?

How do I recreate for you the waves of love and respect that flow over and through me when I stand and survey my courageous Equality Ride community – fifty-six people who have sacrificed so much (promotions, jobs, homes, relationships, comfort, control) to put themselves physically in the gap between condemnation and hope?

These are the things I hold in my heart: 14 days, 336 hours, 20,160 minutes, 1,209,600 moments to treasure and ponder.

There is so much to say. I hope that, over time, in conversation and in letters like this one, I am able to share with you the breadth and depth of the work that alternately (and often simultaneously) consumes, exhausts, excites, depletes, and rejuvenates me.

As we commenced our training day in Denver, CO, I could not help but make note of the parallel between our environment and the work that we do. Colorado is arguably THE most beautiful state in our nation (I say this with the biased pride of somebody who lived in Colorado for part of my childhood). It is also a stronghold for a fundamentalist Christianity that actively seeks to deny lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people equality and full fellowship in the church and in society. The disconnect between such a beautiful creation and such ugly prejudice is jarring.

In much the same way, the disconnect between the beautiful people that we meet and the ugly prejudice that many of those same people hold is both jarring and deeply motivating. The communities of faith that we visit are populated by students, faculty, and administration with a tremendous capacity for love, service, and hospitality. I can sense the beauty of their hearts and spirits as I walk among them. At the same time, I am aware that many of these individuals suffer from misinformation that leads them to actively discriminate against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people on their respective campuses. I recognize that the oppression their policies and beliefs perpetuate is as destructive as their hearts and intentions are sincere.

I also recognize that they are capable of so much more. This is where the motivation kicks in. MidAmerica Nazarene confirmed to me that many well-meaning and genuinely loving people continue to be dangerously misinformed, putting my people at risk for physical, psychological, emotional, and spiritual violence. It is a privilege to bring my newfound friends and others like them a message of hope and reconciliation, knowing that the love they have as a community, when liberated from oppressive thinking, can be channeled into a truly powerful force for good.

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