Taking Part in Each Other's Hearts

I’m not an educator, nor could I ever imagine myself toiling in that honorable profession. So I don’t write to educate children or adults.

Nor am I a preacher. People still prefer men in that role since they more closely resemble the ingrained image of god as a male authority figure (of any race). I am neither male nor an authority figure, so my race shouldn’t matter—but still, I don’t write to preach any religious thought.

I don’t wax philosophical or write to augment centuries of great works by deep thinkers. If their profound ideas can’t be crushed into a 15 second, entertaining TikTok video, nobody cares these days. People would rather just enjoy the moment of what is, not why it is.

I don’t have a pair wings or a halo over my head, so I don’t write to enlighten anyone. Last year, when I shared a quirky essay I’d written in response to the Supreme Court overruling Roe v. Wade, my sister said she’d really like to meet the person who wrote it, unaware I was the author. That was just fine because her response was genuine.

That said, I don’t write for plaudits, likes, cute emojis, or gummy bears. I simply write because I enjoy expressing whatever is inside my heart in any given moment. Little by little, the city of Evangel takes shape and the story of its founder, me, is revealed. It’s my act of courage.

Self-expression is always an act of courage. I wish more people understood this and would, for themselves, act with such courage. It’s about taking part in each other’s hearts.

To those of you who comment, thank you. You are the vibrancy in my town square.

Image: Icon of St. Catherine, painted for my sister Catherine’s birthday