Sometimes people tell me to be less angry. Disabled people remain the 10% of the population, throughout the centuries, across cultures, most marginalized, most robbed of support and participation. Disabled children are murdered by their parents and caregivers with revolting regularity. Their odds of being sexually assaulted are astonishingly high. Adults endure the same.
This is the context for the message of my body, for my life, and for my ministry. What I have perceived, I cannot go back to unfeeling and unknowing. I wonder why It seems possible to people for me to do this work without my whole heart. I bring my entire red and beating heart.
I will not ever harm you with my anger; that, I promise you. But you will see it. It is at once a light and a sacrament. It is the feeling that repeats in my bones and in my heart, "We are worthy. We are worthy." And that is the message that I will spend the rest of my life repeating. I am certain that some people will perceive my anger as less than ministerial. I have to allow for this.
When I started, "Please remember that I love you" and "Theresa loves you" it was for really simple reasons. I remember hearing so much God loves you. And sometimes it just wasn't enough. I couldn't see God or locate God, except in feeling. I wanted people to be able to know that I, a person, loved them. I am confident that I can follow through on that aspiration one person at a time. At the same time, it doesn't mean that we can't journey together toward being more, doing more, feeling more. Sometimes, I will be angry. I will not harm you with my anger. It is a way to know more.
Some of the most important advice I've ever seen on anger is this:
Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry—but don’t use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don’t stay angry. Don’t go to bed angry.
It's a good word that says, "Of course, Theresa, be angry; and sometimes, take a rest." Let your anger be a cleaner, not a weapon. Let it be a light and not a trap. When I say that I am committed not to practice harmful anger, it is because I am committed to something else entirely.
I'm going to be angry when people are indifferent to barriers keeping me and people like me out of buildings, when they are indifferent to our participation. I am going to be angry when it is not capacity that keeps people from being active learners, but rather unwillingness to wonder how to future-present could be different.
Most of the time this unwillingness is rooted in things people already, always know: that access is expensive, complex, or inapplicable. But, no, sometimes there is more than one answer and it is actually in relationship that access happens. Without relationship, it might just amount to more and different furniture.
That's all for now. I'm guided by a Love that will not let me go. Neither will it let you go. Surely there is room in that love for us to grow.
This is the context for the message of my body, for my life, and for my ministry. What I have perceived, I cannot go back to unfeeling and unknowing. I wonder why It seems possible to people for me to do this work without my whole heart. I bring my entire red and beating heart.
I will not ever harm you with my anger; that, I promise you. But you will see it. It is at once a light and a sacrament. It is the feeling that repeats in my bones and in my heart, "We are worthy. We are worthy." And that is the message that I will spend the rest of my life repeating. I am certain that some people will perceive my anger as less than ministerial. I have to allow for this.
When I started, "Please remember that I love you" and "Theresa loves you" it was for really simple reasons. I remember hearing so much God loves you. And sometimes it just wasn't enough. I couldn't see God or locate God, except in feeling. I wanted people to be able to know that I, a person, loved them. I am confident that I can follow through on that aspiration one person at a time. At the same time, it doesn't mean that we can't journey together toward being more, doing more, feeling more. Sometimes, I will be angry. I will not harm you with my anger. It is a way to know more.
Some of the most important advice I've ever seen on anger is this:
Go ahead and be angry. You do well to be angry—but don’t use your anger as fuel for revenge. And don’t stay angry. Don’t go to bed angry.
It's a good word that says, "Of course, Theresa, be angry; and sometimes, take a rest." Let your anger be a cleaner, not a weapon. Let it be a light and not a trap. When I say that I am committed not to practice harmful anger, it is because I am committed to something else entirely.
I'm going to be angry when people are indifferent to barriers keeping me and people like me out of buildings, when they are indifferent to our participation. I am going to be angry when it is not capacity that keeps people from being active learners, but rather unwillingness to wonder how to future-present could be different.
Most of the time this unwillingness is rooted in things people already, always know: that access is expensive, complex, or inapplicable. But, no, sometimes there is more than one answer and it is actually in relationship that access happens. Without relationship, it might just amount to more and different furniture.
That's all for now. I'm guided by a Love that will not let me go. Neither will it let you go. Surely there is room in that love for us to grow.