different names for the same thing

This city is full of interesting people. I've met a Mexican maintenance man who enjoys swimming at the beach; a guy who sells speed and is obsessed with satanic death metal; a young man from Canada whose favorite chips are pickle-flavor; a protestor who believes in eliminating the death penalty; a couch-surfing Asian from New York hoping to stumble on his future in the city; and infinitely more people. And those are the conversations. I can't tell you how many times I've pulled out my little notebook to jot down inspiring, quirky, gross, funny things I've seen and heard.

The other night, waiting for the N on the platform of the underground Van Ness station, I encountered a drag queen. He was dressed in a long blue ball gown with a long black trench coat over it. He had a lot of make up on and his hair was intricately done with random stuff tied into it like artificial flowers and a stiletto. He was walking up and down the platform, speaking to himself and using elaborate hand gestures as if practicing a play. I caught bits of what he was saying and it sounded like some sort of drama. He used props, too, like swinging his umbrella around. And then he would go into dance moves like tapping or ballroom. Since the light rail took forever to come I also witnessed one of his friends who passed by, and re-enacted a short scene with him. Part of me wanted to stare, I will be honest. Another part of me knew that that was what they wanted, but at the same time the last thing they needed. And then I saw (and heard) guys, the other people waiting on the platform, watching them and snickering like twelve year olds. And instead of feeling embarrassed for the man in the ball gown, I felt embarrassed for those guys.

It hurts to think of what life must be like for transvestite, transgender people. Somehow, no matter how strange, it takes a lot for them to embrace that sort of lifestyle in their search for who they are. Because along the way there is so much alienation and rejection, I wonder how their heart can even stand it. It reminds me of the Occupy movement: very misguided and directionless, but passionate and real. I think his lifestyle is egregiously misguided, but it takes so much to wake up each morning saying, “This is who I am,” and it is their faulty destination along a quest to discover, just as everyone else, who they were meant to be. It saddens me more than anything else.

life as i know it

I never, ever thought I would say this. But I am starting to love this city. I walk around its streets and meet its people and sometimes it's horrible, sometimes it's amazing, and other times it's just straight up confusing. But I'm starting to feel possessive about it... I'm starting to call it my city. And the reason for that is because I've gotten progressively more confident that this is where I'm meant to be.

God's goodness in my life never changes. There are so many "in spite of's," but He is a constant throughout my day and throughout my life. This last weekend I had several prayers answered. The first was going to Promised Land Fellowship, and all of a sudden there it was: my church that is both spirit filled and has young adults. And it’s in the city, I can seriously just take the N. It is associated with Bethel Church in Redding, which explained a lot about the service. I was so blown away by finding it, because it was just when I’d gotten pretty defeatist about ever finding one and just stopped trying. I’d talked to the Lord about finding a church, but I don’t remember ever getting on my knees and asking him for one. Which is why it’s so crazy to me that he led me to that church. Even when I don’t specifically ask him, he blesses me. I don’t deserve that. His goodness is something I’ll never, ever understand.

Worship was absolutely amazing. We went on for nearly an hour and a half but I sincerely didn’t mind. I probably wouldn’t even have noticed if I wasn’t wearing heels and my feet asked to sit down eventually. It was incredibly refreshing to declare God’s grace and glory in my life and throw up my hands singing in full abandon before him. I feel like I haven’t done that in a while but it has to be the right environment, and the spirit has to be present, which is not something you get everywhere.

God spoke to me through the message as well. It felt closer to story time the majority of the message. I don’t suppose I was as engaged as I could have been. But it clicked at the end for me. He preached on the spies entering Canaan and the sour report ten of them came back with, while only two had faith in God’s promise for the land he was going to give them. But it was the ten negative people that stirred the people up against Moses, Aaron and the rest of the leadership God had placed there to lead them into power. The moment that got it for me was when he paralleled San Francisco with Canaan. Do we truly believe God’s promise that if he is with us, then who can stand against us? Or do we allow ourselves to be influenced by the bad reports of the city, intimidated and unable to live out his power. I truly felt like that was confirmation that, for now, San Francisco has become my city; my Jerusalem.

Before I left home, the pastor at my parent's church was just starting his series on Acts. The part that has stuck with me over the past couple months was when Jesus instructed the disciples to wait first for the power/Holy Spirit to descend on them, then be sent out.

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

So I told the Lord I was going to take that and have that be my game plan as well. The receiving happened within a month of moving here, and since then I've been in the process of asking him where my Jerusalem will be. There are so many unknowns in my future; I literally feel like I'm living month to month like a rental lease. Not just housing and finances, but all of it. And yet, at least for now, I feel confidant that San Francisco is where he has placed me.

And then, out of the blue, a very sweet older man came over and asked if he could pray for me. Turns out it wasn’t just a “Jesus loves you” generic prayer; he was gifted in the prophetic. I am ashamed to admit I was a bit reluctant in my heart. Not outwardly, I was entirely open to it. I know that sounds kind of contradictory. I will never turn down prayer, but at the same time something in me thought “oh boy.” Isn’t that horrible? I don’t even know what that was. Because if I’m going to think like that how many other opportunities of blessing has the Lord just been wanting to give me and I just shut them down?

God answered several prayers of mine through that one prayer of his. There was so much confirmation and affirmation I’m not even sure where to start. He said heart of worship, which is the second prophesy now I've received where someone has mentioned that. I need to ask the Lord what he means by that, and if that’s something he wants to multiply in me. He said the Lord is blessed when I worship, and he honors my heart of complete abandon before him. I was like, woooo! He also said I will experience God’s grace in this upcoming year in ways I haven’t before. I will be learning and discovering more about myself and he will be alongside me. Which is exactly what I’d been hoping this next year would be, what with trying to explore and get into journalism and seeing where that takes me.

He talked about freedom, a freedom to be who I am in Christ, and the ability to declare and walk in that freedom before others. I’ve had a desire for boldness but been having a hard time figuring out what context that would be in. Again, I find myself often intimidated by the city, in the form of all the different kinds of people I see or encounter on a daily basis. I see need, but that emerges as fear. I would love more than anything to enter into that freedom and have others see me as the God-loving person that I am.

And then he said creativity, not knowing in what context that is in. But he saw the Lord multiplying creativity in me. And then he said I don’t know if you work, but I see promotion for you. At that moment I wondered why I even worry about my future, and feel silly for the times I do, because if ever God’s got my back on anything it’s what he’s calling me to do. He ended by saying he sees me as a little girl dressed in my pajamas, approaching my Father and curling up in his arms. Safe and warm and comfortable. And he said God says those are His favorite moments with me. I felt so affirmed and happy when he finished. I gave him the biggest hug and asked him what his name was. Javier. And then Javier excused himself to go to the bathroom, and I got the sense that praying for complete strangers in that way was nothing out of the ordinary for him. He just feels prompted by God and he obeys, nothing to it. I felt so blessed and encouraged to be on the receiving end of that obedience.

Life as I know it is, straight up, blow-my-mind awesome. This journey with the Lord is something that will be impossible to get old, and I can't wait to be on this adventure forever.