Intersectional Embodiment and God's Love for All of Me | Monday Invocation
Written by Mick Atencio
Picture of 3 medicine bottles in front of a piece of paper that says, "I am beloved in my humanity."
Content note: The topics covered in this invocation include discussions of PTSD diagnoses and symptoms.
Just a few weeks after I got married, I came out to my husband as bisexual. I was finally coming to terms with affirming theology and began to realize that my lived experience was similar to that of many bisexual people. My husband was incredibly affirming, reminding me I was loved by both God and by him in my embodiment.
A few weeks after that, I began experiencing disabling PTSD symptoms from a traumatic experience I had undergone several months prior. I would have panic attacks regularly, I struggled with intrusive thoughts and voices, and harmful memories were distorted into “trigger events” which would start even more panic attacks.
On top of these two experiences, I had spent at least 6 or 7 years dealing with unexplained chronic pain in my shoulders, neck, back, and hands. This pain often led to excruciating headaches and no treatment seemed to actually resolve it. (I was later diagnosed with fibromyalgia, but there are still some unexplained factors that exist to this day).
All of this lived experience happening in 2019 and 2020 formed a strange and confusing season of life, where I began to recognize I was inhabiting a new intersection of identity as a queer and disabled person.
Historically, Christians have treated disability as anything from a demon that required an exorcism, to a sin of the former generation, to an opportunity to pray for miraculous healing (e.g. Mark 5:1-5:13, John 9:1-10, James 5:13-16). In My Body is Not a Prayer Request, Amy Kenny discusses the dehumanization that comes with these sorts of encounters and reminds the reader that she is already made imago dei and is enough, not despite her disability, but alongside it. She does not desire “fixing,” but full affirmation, necessary accommodations, and dignified treatment.
In a similar vein, Christians often treat queerness as something to be “fixed” or removed from the queer person’s life. Harmful conversion therapy practices try to forcibly change a person’s sexual orientation or gender, and non-affirming churches deny marriage and leadership opportunities to queer communities.
When disability and queerness collide, there may be assumptions from outside observers that it’s all interconnected as some form of sin or “genetic malformation.” This is untrue. Our bodies are made beloved by God fully as they are, uniquely made to honor God. As the Apostle Paul says, there is nothing that can separate us from the love of Christ (Romans 8:31-39).
My queerness and my disabilities are part of my story and God loves my entire story. When I reflect on the season of life in which I suffered deeply under PTSD symptoms before medication management, I still observe God’s hand working in my life. When I reflect on coming out as bisexual, and then later demisexual and nonbinary, I feel the joy of God surrounding me. When I wake up in the middle of the night with a pounding headache and tight shoulders, I take the time to just be in God’s presence.
This Disability Pride month, I encourage my friends who are disabled and our community members to celebrate our embodiment as people made in God’s image. I also encourage my able-bodied friends to learn more about our community, our fight for justice (especially in faith spaces), and our beautiful stories.
A few resources for going further:
The Disabled God by Nancy Eiesland
My Body is Not a Prayer Request by Amy Kenny
Disability and the Church by Lamar Hardwick
The material from this post was expanded out of our new LGBTQ+ Disability Community Group Guide! Keep an eye out for registration to join this Community Group in the fall!
