Acceptance

In light of being asked today what I, as a Christian, will say to God when He asks me why I accepted transgendered folk as normal:

In the end, or middle, or beginning, depending on how you look at it, when I am before Jesus, and after I stop boo-hooing and try to wipe the tears and snot away that I am sure will be there just from being in the presence of unadulterated love, I'll answer his question on why I accepted those the church and society did not.

I'm sure I'll say through my tears, "Jesus, If I thought I was wrong, I'd stand with them anyway. Because I'd rather err by being merciful than by being judgemental.

These are the outcast... "the least of these," you spoke about. The ones not accepted. The ones pushed to the margins of society because they seem different than what those in positions of power thought was acceptable.

And because the church was against them, these precious human beings thought you were against them. If accepting them for who they are, meant they knew they were loved by me, and by representation, you, than I chose to love them wholeheartedly.

And Jesus, since I don't believe I was wrong, I simply and gladly stood with the outcast because they are my neighbor and I love them.

They are worth being loved, valued, acknowledged, and they are worth showing that we all belong to one another. It was an honor to know them, Jesus. I am humbled by their love and acceptance of me.

And on top of all that, I know you were there, too. Just like you said you'd be. How could I not long to be where you are?"