Angel of the Get Through - Andrea Gibson
August 13, 1975 – July 14, 2025
Best friend, this is what we do.
We gather each other up.
We say “The cup is half
yours and half mine.”
We say, “Alone is the last place you will ever be.”
On Monday, the world lost one of its fiercest hearts. Andrea Gibson (they/them)—beloved poet, activist, truth-teller—passed away, and the grief that followed was not quiet. It bloomed loudly, openly, in shared poems and stories, in whispered thanks and loud declarations. Queer and trans communities across the globe have gathered to mourn, to honor, and to celebrate the life and legacy of someone who gave voice to what so many of us were never sure we were allowed to say out loud.
For so many of us, Andrea’s words were the first ones that told us we weren’t broken. That being queer, trans, tender-hearted, or feeling deeply wasn’t something to hide, but something holy and something to be cherished. Their poems didn’t flinch from pain. They reached into the pain and pulled out something honest, beautiful, and deeply human.
Andrea taught me, how to live largely and love loudly. Their poetry gave permission to take up space, to feel too much, to cry in public, to dance alone in the kitchen, to love your friends and community so fiercely you can’t help but say it out loud. They showed us that vulnerability is a true kind of strength, and that community is also built through many soft moments. The soft moments that show up through shared meals, laughter, and on quiet nights when someone stays on the phone with you when you need it the most.
We build Beloved Community as daily practice. We text our friends to remind them we love them, or even pick up the phone to call them and let them know. We show up with soup when someone is sick. We forgive each other’s small (and sometimes large) failings. We create art that helps someone feel less alone, that helps our own bodies feel less alone. We organize, we listen, and we build safe havens where people can show up authentically.
We remind ourselves that Beloved Community isn’t a utopia. It’s messy and real and human. It’s built through daily care and collective responsibility. It’s the chosen family that shows up. It’s the refusal to let anyone disappear into loneliness.
So, in honor of our Beloved Andrea, we keep going, not alone, but gathered up saying the cup is half yours, and half mine. Alone is the last place you will ever be.
I say, let us hold each other a little closer. Let us keep building a world where no one has to hide, no one has to go it alone, and love is always loud.
Rest in power, Andrea. Thank you for showing us a way.
With Love,
Pastor Eli