Heartbreak and loss show themselves in all forms. When I lost my grandma, the person who I felt loved me the most, just as I was, it felt like my world as I'd known it was gone forever.
Time crawled around me and distanced the loss. No one talks about the loss seeming less painful because their presence is less in your life.
When you stop and remember, the pain comes rushing back. Joy is there, but pain is it's lingering shadow.
I faced a new world without her, but I still had my community and church family. When my church and I drifted apart from radical differences, my community died too.
People I'd always been around and could easily access, staunchly chose a side, which parted us forever. Another death, one I have avoided grieving.
Listening to 90's Avalon songs, it hit me how much I have hated Jesus for what happened. For taking my community away, for leaving me alone.
I miss it. I miss my church family as I once knew them. I know it can never be the same. Too much pain in this lifetime.
Jesus is here, whispering, loving, helping me find my way, and my new community. Will it replace the old? No. Just like no one could replace my Mawmaw.
And still, my Qoya sisters and fellow big-hearted dancers, are there for me. Their support and love is what makes Qoya different than other dance practices. The sacredness for community and respect for one another's differences is why I dance with them.
I dream of a world where all of these communities can celebrate this journey together. Where we embrace our differences and dance joyfully for the added color it brings into the world.
And I welcome, with a new peace, Jesus back into my life. I've missed Him. Our talks, our adventures. I know He's been there, I've felt Him. And I know He loves me.
In my life experience there has been joy and pain. He never shielded me from the pain, even when I wanted Him to. Maybe, one of these days, I'll get it. For now, His community and comfort is enough.