Living with Cerebral Palsy and Intersectionality

“Say that you want me, I know you don't. No you don't, cause you don't know. What I've been through, led me to you. You found me, I was broken. You let a little bit of hope in. But you, you broke me too” (Yellowcard and Avril Lavigne, “You Broke Me Too”).  Most of the things I've really wanted in life haven't lasted very long. Sometimes that's my fault. Sometimes it's not. One of the things that I'm learning to overcome in myself is that need for external validation and the role that that has played usually in interpersonal relationships.  But, it plays its part in other ways too, like when I used to write about theology back in the day. Oh boy, did I live for your reaction to it. That's the whole reason I even wrote a piece on the gender of God because I wanted to say it in a way to get people to react and it did. What about being on the stage with a guitar in my hand and a mic in my face? What about preaching the Thanksgiving sermon and having ...

“Well, it’s all right, every day is Judgment Day. Maybe somewhere down the road always (at the end of the line)” (Traveling Wilburys. “End of the Line”). I was first introduced to this band when I was 18 years old. Playing in a band with three guys my senior that they dubbed, “The Old Farts and the Peep.” However, it was for a different song on this same album. I was introduced to “End of the Line” in the rooms. Today, I’m listening to it as I write this post. Not because I plan to tell you about the rooms (those are intentionally anonymous). Instead, it is because I’m looking at a picture of myself within the first eight days of life. And, the front of the line was pretty fucking close to the end of the line. I’ve been “doing the best I can” ever since. If you recall, I was born two months premature. If everything had aligned perfectly, I would have been born on my mother’s birthday. Instead, being born so early I was just 3 pounds, 11 ounces. Those first eight days were p...

Pumpkin pie is my favorite birthday dessert in August. I literally had an entire workplace debate over this that I was asked to drop because it got that intense. But, I'm sure I'll be eating leftover pumpkin pie today, assuming I didn't eat it all yesterday. We carry everything with us at work and at home but not all of the things are heavy, some of the things are as sweet as pie. Pumpkin pie for me isn't just about the pie itself, it's about the memories. Every time I eat a piece I think of my grandmother who's not here anymore. Nobody's pumpkin pie is as delicious to me as my grandmother's. Not even my own, based off of her recipe, which is really just the Libby's pumpkin recipe with a little extra nutmeg and cinnamon mix.  I think of my sister who had pumpkin pie on her birthday before I did and I flat out stole it. She's not in the picture anymore either. I think of my aunt who boldly made pumpkin cream cheese bars one year at Tha...

Dear Ministry, I was there, 2005-2019. We had a number of ups and downs together and my Church days are behind me, largely due to the downs. Today, I'm writing to thank you for the very real joys of work that started with the question, can I do that? Few people's ministry resumes include the Salvation Army, the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, the Presbyterian Church of the USA, and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, mine did. It's an odd theological map, but I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here for the people I had the privilege to walk beside in the journey of beliefs. Arguably, my greatest joy in ministry happened the night I journeyed through the Harrowing of Hell with the seventh grade Confirmation class in New York. They brought all the questions and it didn't rattle me, I was there for it, as they say. I've never had more fun in ministry work than being intellectually and theologically challenged by middle schoolers over the ...

“In the eye of the beholder, one shall truly see the depth of their own beauty and if it is skin deep” (Eye of the Beholder, Tim Kellogg, 2007).  That's a line from one of my songs off of my first album Of Loss and Love. I'm going to bypass the blatantly Christian undertones for a minute and just point out the depth of what this means for me as a person today and a man with disability.  My physical appearance and movement are the first thing most people see from me unless their introduction is to my writing in cyberspace and that's never stopped me from being appearance conscious about how you might see me. It's also the least of my concerns because I know there's more to life than that. “What's one to do when they lose what they love, when their heart is broken, and there's nothing left?” (Of Loss and Love, Tim Kellogg, 2007).  The thing about my songwriting is that it was usually layered storytelling because I didn't openly share about the stuff I face...

Yep, that's a rattlesnake. No, it's not AI. No, it's not Photoshop. My dad took that picture on a camping trip after walking up on a freaking rattlesnake. My dad literally took pictures of everything, even when it might have been safer not to. What's not in the picture? Myself and all of the other children that were present on the camping trip. Where am I going with this? Fear and safety. Fear and safety have just as much of a role at work as they do at home. Moments like this camping trip are where my threat sensors started to take over.  What do I remember about this camping trip? I remember some poorly roasted marshmallows and kids that were likely way too close to the fire pit – man the eighties were different. And, I remember all the dads going to handle the rattlesnake. I grew up in the mountains, so sometimes that phrase “f*** around and find out” was just a norm. That's kind of what I remember of the dad's going to deal with the rattlesnake. ...