“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people…”
-Holy Bible, KJV, 1 Peter 2:9
This is our generation. This is our time to make a change. Time to stand up, stand out, stand together, and stand tall. We, too, are royal. We, too, are holy. And by God, are we not peculiar?
Here in Utah we stick out like proverbial sore thumbs—thumbs tired from thumbing our way across these desert plains, hoping for refuge or compassion or respect. The gay teenage son thrown out by his father, with a backpack full of heartache, clean underwear, and longing. The transgender woman with her box of personal affects, fired from yet another job, kicking up dust from the barren road beneath her. It’s all beneath her. It’s all beneath him. Or them. Or us. Or you. Or me. The lesbian woman with her knapsack, the bisexual man with his briefcase, the drag queen with her trunk of wigs and heels and makeup to make up yet another face. A face a little braver, a little stronger, a little less naïve. Standing in the gutter, our thumbs out, our eyes smeared, our hearts broken, we wait. Cars barrel past; obscenities and garbage fly out their open windows. We shout back, “I, too, am royal! I, too, am holy!”
This collection of writings is our cry, our roar, our prayer, our lament, and the gnashing of our teeth. Hear us. Walk with us. We’ll wipe the dust from your eyes.