DANGLING PRECARIOUSLY ON THE EDGE

 

God loves trans people and our journeys to be who we really are. I know this because I didn’t die on Sunday. I didn’t suffer any injuries and my SUV didn’t suffer any damage beyond the $1,600 towing fee. I’ll get into the story behind our opening photo in just a bit.

While I may be having something of a spiritual awakening here, I can’t describe who God is to me. They aren’t the god of the Roman Catholic church in which I was raised. The Roman Catholics lost me with their covering for pedophiles, their dismissive treatment of women and their anti-LGBTQ crap. I was hoping to give the new pope a chance, but he’s as anti-gay and mindlessly misinformed about gender as any of his ilk.

The other Christian churches range from the “Hate the sin, love the sinner” bromide to outright loathing of queer folks. I admit I’m a fan of Jesus, but I don’t see Jesus in these churches. Too many hypocrites and not enough temple-smashing.

Non-Christian churches? I don’t know much about them. They don’t get much coverage and, often, what they little they get is about their horrifying practices.

My present working theory is that God isn’t a person, but energy comprised of all the good people who have lived in the past and live in the present. It’s this positive energy that inspires our better angels. It’s why the dark forces attack people who are “woke.” They see cruelty as strength and compassion as weakness. The fight for simple human decency goes on.

Anyway, now that you’ve suffered through the sermon on the blog, let me tell you the story behind the photo. Mind you, I kind of hate this story because it makes me feel old and stupid whenever I tell it. But it is what it is.

I was driving to a going away party for a woman who has been the greatest LGBTQ+ ally one could hope for. She founded an amazing group to support LGBTQ+ people in the Medina area. The group and her many other kindnesses have meant a lot to me as I pursue my transition journey.

The party was in the open air pavilion of an area park I’d never visited before. I made a wrong turn and ended up on a one-lane trail. Which should have been obvious to me. Two miles in, I finally realized I was not where I was supposed to be. I managed to turn around okay, only to end up precariously balanced over a ditch within a few yards.

I called 911, explaining my predicament. I did manage to get the driver’s side door open, but, when I undid my seat belt, I slip helplessly across the passenger seat and became wedged against the passenger side door. Miraculously, I was able to hold on to my phone. I was terrified.

I was afraid my SUV would roll over. Or that the passenger door would open behind me and throw me into the ditch. Or that the door opening would shift the precarious balance and either cause the SUV to fall into the ditch or go the other way and roll over on me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t pull myself up. All I could see from my position was the tops of the trees around me. I was as scared as I’ve ever been in my life.

While I spent 30-40 minutes stuck that way, the dispatcher sent local police and sheriff’s deputies in search of me. They send a drone to locate my SUV, but the trees made it difficult for it to see me. Had my van gone into the ditch, the drone wouldn’t have been able to find me at all.

When help arrived, the local officer did his best to assure me I would be okay. When the deputies arrived, they braced the SUV, opened the passenger door, and pulled/slid me out. My pants and underwear had come off in the process, but I was able to stand and get dressed. I was so relieved I fell back on my go-to device for overcoming anxiety. I cracked jokes about usually getting paid to strip.

I was uninjured. An ambulance was nearby, but I felt confident I was okay. I figured I’d be sore the next few days (and I was), but was able to walk with some assistance from my cane. Which I also managed to pull from the van.

Believe it or not, the local officer took my statement and then drove me to the going-away party. I was there for the second half of the festivities and amazed my friends with the photo of my SUV hanging on the edge of the ditch.

In the second miracle of the day, my SUV was undamaged, save for a $1,600 towing bill. Which I know seems pretty high, but this was very much a dangerous undertaking. It took a crew of three under constant threat of the SUV rolling into the ditch or onto them to extract my van from the situation. Because my spare key was in the van, they were even able to drive it to the party for me. Was this just dumb luck or divine intervention? I’m leaning toward the latter. Especially when I think of all the ways this could have gone horribly wrong.

Saintly Wife Barb was vacationing in Ireland with friends. So maybe I got some long distance luck of the Irish. When I texted her, I told I believed God (however you perceive that power) wanted me to continue my journey towards becoming myself no matter how hard that might become. That I was being told there was still work for me to do, including helping other people facing similar challenges. Compassion and kindness are strengths. To the best of my human imperfections, I’ll embrace and grow those strengths within myself.

I’ll be back soon with more stuff.

©2025 Tony Isabella