When Aaron and I first started hanging out in earnest, you know, the “you can have anything you want out of my fridge” stage, we had a conversation at work that rings true to this day. We were talking about the fact that Fag Hag is so prevalent for straight women who fawn on gay men and vice versa. Why isn’t there a word for lesbians who fawn on straight men and vice versa? Aaron came up with “lesbro,” and it stuck.
Yesterday, we were sitting in his apartment and I told him about some plans for St. James. Then, we started talking about my struggle to be a leader because every day, I wake up and realize that if there is a real-life connection between the Bible and me, it is that I am Moses. Not Charleton Heston Moses. The teenager who killed a soldier in the desert and is running in fear. I’m at the point now where God has asked me to do something, and I’m still saying “why don’t you ask AarOH MY GOD YOU’RE AARON!!!!!
He looked at me like I had three heads and I said, “When God first asked Moses to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, his first words were, “I think you should pick my brother. He’s better at it than me.”
The brother’s name was Aaron.
Never forget that, Fanagans. NEVER EVER FORGET IT. Hold me accountable to it. I cannot lose him, because if I am the visionary, he is the brains. He can engineer the fuck out of everything, and I can’t find my keys in the morning. If I ever need an IT Guy, I could actually ask him because he knows more than I do and is resourceful enough to hire the right people under him. People don’t think about IT for a church, but there is no way on earth that I am going to be responsible for donors’ transactions being revealed. I will have NSA level cryptography before I will let that happen, and you are lucky that I am one of the people that can say that no protection is too much- we’ll pay for it. I’m on the internet all the time. Don’t think I don’t know how dangerous it is and how much I want to protect you from it.
All of this is to say that I want to be your safe space the way you’ve been mine. Your secrets, your dreams, your donations to something greater than yourself. Yesterday, I got my first request over the internet to hear confession, and even though I’m not Catholic and am not ordained, I said yes with the caveat that just like Mental Illness Happy Hour, I’m not a pastor or counselor, just a waiting room that doesn’t suck. I can listen to you, but at the end of the confession, I will say you are forgiven in Christ’s name…. now go forgive yourself with a trained therapist. The only thing I can do is disconnect enough to listen to you without saying anything except “here’s what I would do if I were you….. I’d make an appointment with someone who’s been trained at this for a very long time. People solve their own problems with enough time to think about them….. this blog is case in point.
He called me Preacher Girl.
Ok, that boy’s a lesbro, too.
Just as long as you understand that OH MY GOD IT’S AARON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!