The General Conference of the United Methodist Church adjourned last week after making historic moves to remove language that has kept generations of LGBTQ persons from being fully affirmed in their life and ministry. In 2016 I attended the General Conference, the UMC’s global gathering, in Portland and wrote a poem longing to go down to the Willamette River and find a way to breathe again as a church. You can read “In the Dreamtime That Was Portland” by following this link.
I got to one day of the 2024 General Conference in Charlotte, North Carolina. I spent an adventurous night at the Midnight Diner after the train dropped me off in the wee hours of the morning. Then I got to experience a very different kind of church being reborn at the Charlotte Convention Center—one that inspired me to write a poem looking back to 2016 and looking ahead to where we might yet go.
I dedicate “We Went Down to the River” to all the people—friends, colleagues, and would-have-been colleagues—who have been working and desiring this day.
We Went Down to the River
We took the train by the river
to see what prophets see:
patient Southern waters curving
resolutely through the loam,
scarred dogwoods defiant
in their springtime blooms.
Memories of blood and chains can’t bind the heart
from the resurrection of Carolina.
Respite? Revival? I’ve seen it!
I spent a long night at the Midnight Diner,
those creamy grits strangely warmed
amidst the bone-tired tears, late laughter,
and the many edges of desperation and despair.
I walked the last mile under the Charlotte skyline,
my company for a time a young woman
at the end of the evening and her wits.
And what unfolds now
except a place to meet, to love,
a time to breathe,
a way to truth to life?
The train knows stations of the cross yet to come.
I’m following you from the crowded platform,
my bag lighter to navigate these narrow steps.
You, queer friend, have waited for us to board.
We yield to your grace
and begin the journey anew,
all aboard.
Heartlands 
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