This has been quite a week. It has been a week of shocked disappointment. It has been a week wherein the lines in the sand have become a bit clearer and a bit deeper. 

It has me wondering...what is it about people that makes us step squarely on the back of another to stand just a little taller. We knock each other down with the delusion that it isn't the Christ's face that we have pushed into the mud. We shoulder our way forward, uncaring of the harm we are doing just so long as we are seen. And if you humiliate my tribe, we will rise up with snarls and hatred so potent you will be left scorched. 

If you objectify me, I will condemn you. 

Or, I will choose another way. I will choose to change the narrative. I will soak myself in beautiful language until your hatred and scorn seem to me the cries of the fearful. I will choose for myself hope and joy and courage. I will take the hands of those I understand and those I do not, and we will join in the song of this place. The song that creation has been singing all along.

We will not become less than we are. We will rise up. We will engage in beautiful thoughts. We will look for the streak joy that blazes in the autumn leaf. We will not surrender to the cheapness of denigrating the other. We will step forward in grace.

A wild grace.

A grace that can join us all.

Over the next several weeks, I will be using the hashtag: #counternarrative2016 

This year has been overshadowed by hatred, intolerance, and meanness, but I believe there is another narrative. A story that is being told in the laugh of a child and a moment of kindness. I believe there is a Eucharistic story that the world needs to hear. 

So, I acknowledge the pain and fear of this time, and I say, let us shout our stories with the courage of those who know how dark and sad life is and refuse to ignore the lesson of autumn. 

We will blaze with beauty until the moment we fall, exhausted to the ground, and then we will let go of ourselves and nourish Creation with our very self.