Like Nehemiah, I look at our community, and I say, "They are your servants and your people, whom you redeemed by your great strength and your mighty hand." (Nehemiah 1:10) What, then, will God build in us and through us? That's what we'll explore at Revoice25.

God, who possessed the whole world, chose to sell everything because he was madly in love with me, and with you. Jesus poured out on the Cross and pours out still in the Eucharist his entire self, body and blood, soul and divinity, for us. This shocking knowledge, should we choose (by God’s grace) to accept it, is the seed in our hearts that grows the pearl of Love.

It’s the beginning of August. The next school year is around the corner. For those who attended Revoice24, the excitement and energy of the conference have worn off. We’re back to normal. Sometimes, normal is hard, especially for sexual and gender minorities navigating their place in the Church. The place we’re supposed to come home to, to be known in, doesn’t know how and sometimes doesn’t care how to treat us with the dignity we deserve.

I'm a hopeless romantic, and I grew up on Disney films about how finding your true love is the key to unlocking your happily ever after. This was further confirmed on Sundays when the pastor would tell us that next to the day of his salvation, his wedding day was the happiest day of his life. If I had a beautiful partner who I loved and was obsessed with and who truly loved and was obsessed with me, too, how could I not finally be fulfilled? When I see an attractive man at the gym, on the subway, or on social media, I can't help but see him as the answer to my longings. What I continually have to remind myself is that this is fantasy.

Hannah taught me that the very site of my seeming brokenness would actually be the place where I could become a fruitful gift to the Kingdom of God. Where I used to lament and mourn my queerness exclusively, I am now learning to see it as a kind of gift and blessedness. I am reminded of the promise of Isaiah 56 to eunuchs, who were considered a kind of gender and sexual minority in the ancient world: "To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant— to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will endure forever."

Actually, though, Adele was not royalty. While she was certainly a prominent figure in Austrian society during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, she was nevertheless an "ordinary" woman.

Or was she? Like every precious human being created in the image of God, Adele beautifully reflects the royal image of our Creator. Moreover, no matter how "ordinary" a person might seem, all we who are in Christ are God's masterpieces (Ephesians 2:10).

Years later, I would ask him what madness convinced him to put me on a stage when he was such a great preacher. He answered, “There’s too much work for any one person, and you have the same Holy Spirit I do.”

You have the same Holy Spirit I do… that stuck with me.

My pastor was modeling for me what Jesus is teaching his followers in Matthew 9. The work of the Gospel is big, necessary, and too much for any one person to do… so God’s Spirit is constantly working in God’s community, raising up new shepherds.

I serve in my local church not because I am trying to prove anything to myself or others. Not to earn love or to make up for being queer. Not to be the gay hero or the youth group leader that I needed. Not to rescue or because I feel like it is all on me…okay sometimes I serve because of that, but that's where my therapist comes in (thanks, Jessie). I serve from a place of freedom, of knowing that God not only wants to use my strengths but also my messiness for His Glory in my church. Because my God delights in the messiness. What if you believed this, too? Because then you, too, might have a 9th grader think that you are "literally the coolest."