I’m considered a sinner. Living in rebellion. Immoral. Deviant.

I am considered these things because I am a transgender person. Because I love a woman. Because I believe in social justice. Because my theology isn’t fundamentalist. I am painted as the worst of the worst.

Immoral. Deviant. Sick.

I get up in the morning and snuggle my kitten. I make some coffee and spend time journaling and reading. I shower. While in the shower I pray. I pray for the people that I love; the people I know are hurting, the ones who I know are facing things they don’t know how to face. I pray for wisdom and peace for myself and for the world. I pray that I will do what I need to do.

I get in my car and I drive to church where I figure out how to instill the love I have for Scripture, God, and the Christian story in people of all ages. I read books, I write curriculum, I write.

I counsel people who need it; lending a listening ear and an open heart to folks who are struggling with families who refuse to love them, with churches who don’t want them, with a theology that wishes death upon them. We talk. We cry together. Sometimes we manage a laugh. I hope when we sign off they feel less alone.

After work I try to do some writing. I try to tell stories that lead people toward a life of justice. I try to lift up the stories of my community. I try to write things that are redemptive.

I go home and clean my apartment. I cook dinner to share with my partner. We eat together and watch some tv. We talk about our days and what we’re dreaming of. We hold each other. We care for each other.

We go to sleep holding each other.

This is my day. This is my life. This is what I do.

I’m considered a sinner. Living in rebellion. Immoral. Deviant.

They say these things about me. And yet

They are the ones who are preaching a death dealing theology loudly to anyone who will listen. They are the parents who are kicking their children out of their houses. They are the ones who are refusing to honor the names and pronouns of their children. They are the ones who are hoarding wealth. They are the ones who voted for a man who thinks nothing of sexual assault into the highest office in the country that they love. They are the ones who don’t give a damn about poor people or brown people or the environment. They are the ones who are hateful each and every day.

And I am the sinner. The immoral one. The deviant. But man, if that’s the standard? If what it means to be righteous means being like them? I am not at all interested. I will claim my deviance with pride because to me my deviance looks an awful lot like trying to follow Jesus.