The Day I Met You.

This is not a love letter. Well, maybe it is, but not of the romantic variety. This is a letter to Lucy, to Andre, to Darryl and all of the other men and women I have met who have been forced to the margins and shown me that, that is exactly where my God lives.

The Day I Met You

I still hear the voices sometimes
The ones that tell me to quiet down
Sit up straight
And act like a lady
“Ladies are quiet,” they say, “subdued”
The don’t scream at the unjust
They don’t cause a scene
And they sure as hell don’t curse
No, ladies bake
They sew
And silently pray
They enjoy love stories
And are waiting to be saved by a knight on a white steed
They are mild and meek
Made to fill both small physical and emotional spaces
“They’re not like you,” they said
“No, they are not like you.”

Those voices though, they got quieter the day I met you
You looked different than I imagined
With your fierce grace and powerful gaze you told me stories of truth
You gave me strength
You gave me courage
You gave me purpose
You told me I was more
You taught me to be brave
You told me to speak up
You gave me permission to fight

I’ve been different since that day
A little more timid than I’d like
But a little more confident too
I still hear them though
The voices
They are quieter now
Holding less authority
But they still hold the power to hurt me sometimes
With their weighted word, shaking their heads and wagging bony fingers
But they are not me
And they are not you

No you, you’re different
You’ve changed me.

 

Want to know how you can help care for the homeless people in your community? Start by checking out The Homeless Bill of Rights, read it, share it, join the movement.