palm sunday

i was going to be able to say there was nothing extraordinary about it; just one more day on the line walking.

there were some honk and waves and some thumbs ups and a wave or two from people with whom i have already talked at some length.

tan car man was there, twice. he rolls his window down as he goes by as if he is going to say something, but does not. he waves expansively and kindly.

but after church someone came out and offered me a palm.

i would name them, but i do not know if this would be viewed unkindly by the conspiracy of silence inside the church.

it was an odd moment for me, because i have in my home a vase full of all the palms i have gotten since the day of my conversion and last week while i was dusting i chose not to throw them out even though i felt that part of my life was over, just because i was not ready to throw out the palms.

i did not know how i felt about being offered a palm, or what it means in terms of my crisis of faith.

when i was asked if i would like one, i think i just stood and gaped for longer than is socially acceptable while i wrestled with the idea.

but i realized this: i wanted one. i do not know what the implications are, but i also know i do not have to sort out NOW whether or not i will ever be a person of faith again.

when i came to the williston federated church i had a vibrant and ebullient faith. in the months following the assault and at the hands of the church, not so much.

it's more nuanced than i think i can write about here.

but as i continued on my walk, all i could think about it was "oh, my jesus."

it was not possible to go any farther into that thought, so i called it sufficient in the moment.

and i cried. and walked. sign and palm.

after a while a man stopped to ask me for directions.

i went home, and i was unable to get warm for the rest of the day.